


Crossing destinies

by barjy02



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 107,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barjy02/pseuds/barjy02
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU...Dean is arrested for underground fighting. Haunted by the ghosts of his tortured childhood, he runs away. But an attorney will give him one last chance. A job in St Gerry hall, a psychiatric hospital.<br/>He'll meet a broken man along the way, Castiel, found in his attic after 30 years of abuse. Their encounter will shatter their lives forever</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Cage

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING
> 
> Some chapters of this fic could hurt some people.  
> Even if this story is considered as a fiction, the locations, situations or universes (like the Cage or the hospital) or characters reactions are used as a fictive story, keep in mind that those kinds of abuse could unfortunately be real.
> 
> after some reflexion i decided to put this story in rating "Teen and up audiences" and not "mature", i would keep the warnings about violence and rape etc...  
> but I want a reader free to choose because behind the words of this story, there's a reality...
> 
> Thank you

**First and foremost, i’d like to say thank you, from the deepest of my heart, to my beta Kiki who translated all my fic in English (basically it’s a french’s fic... « A la croisée des destins »)**

**She made a wonderful job here...**

**WARNING**

**Even if this story is considered as a fiction, keep in mind that those kinds of abuse could unfortunately be real. It is actually inspired by a part of my own childhood and some of my friends.**

**Those abuses could happen right now as you’re reading these lines. Some of them can’t even be expressed out loud, it’s taboo. They keep the pain, the shame, the guilt and their victims, children or adults, locked.**

**This reality can exist even right next to you. Please don’t stay unconcerned, care for them and for all the people Dean and Cas portray in this story.**

**This fic was very hard for me to begin and often hard to write. It will probably be hard for** **some of you to read too but I can assure there will be some light and hope in it anyway.**

**This first chapter will be a “soft” introduction.**

 

** PROLOGUE **

 

 

This story takes place somewhere in the north-east of America, in a little town where winters are too cold and summers are too hot. A little town like any other in the world. No addresses, no famous locations because this is not the point of this story. Consider this as a landmark for you and your imagination not be lost, an anchor for the story not to be too far away from the reality.

Even if the story has probably its load of incoherence, keep in mind all stories probably have. Just know that behind those words, the shouts you hear, the pains you perceive won’t be fake. As you’re reading these lines, more victims shout and cry in silence and in total indifference for most of them. This is a safety for their tormentors.

But what if the victims could speak?

I have such big compassion for them that I couldn’t let them die on the side of my road. I’ve shared some pain with them, we understand each other so well. They are the voice of those who can’t speak and suffer in silence. They are fictive characters in these pages but don’t forget they can be a reality in the world you’re living in, maybe right in your neighborhood. Would you hear them?

Would you fake not listening?

 

Listen to them. Look at them.

Please.

 

 

** CHAPTER 1: THE CAGE **

 

 

Pain woke him up. He stood up wincing, holding his ribs out of breathe. He stared at his till bloody but bandaged hands. Those hands full of anger and rage. Cops gave a surprise visit again and here he was in another jail cell. At least this time he didn’t have to share it so he could sleep a few hours.

Well… sleep was kind of a euphemism. He couldn’t have sleep for years, he usually just dozed. His nights were full of nightmares, legacy of his past. Those faces he was punching several times a month, he was punching so hard.

 

He was almost 30 and had no hopes for the future. Actually he never had any. His life was only survival. If he was still alive it was because he promised him. Damn promise. More like a gold prison to a dying brother.

“If you knew Sammy…My pain, the death inside my veins, you would never have asked for such a sacrifice from me. Live yeah… but live for what? You’re not even here anymore. I’m alone and I just want to die but you have forbidden it to me.”

 

 

He lived doing poor jobs, just enough to be able to pay for poor motel rooms, as empty as he was, as dark as his tortured soul was.

One day in an alley he fought again, with such blinding rage, but there was a witness this time… Gaby. The guy took care of him, talked to him about “the Cage” and made an offer. Dean had nothing to lose, just rage to spread so he accepted.

The underground fights usually took place in basements, night clubs, warehouses or empty houses. There were no rules, except you can’t hit the crotch. As only protection he had bandaged hands to avoid fractures, and something to protect his face. Protecting his teeth was an option. Everything else was allowed. Locked in a cage, they fought in front of a screaming audience exited by blood, holding their money like they’d pay God for those allowed butcheries.

 

He fell a lot, but he won most of the time. Everybody there called him “Rage”. This nickname is now for him like a second nature. He put this most hated face on each of his opponent’s face. This face that pursuits him even in his sleep. In the Cage he could at least hit it, damn it… or kill it.

He often found himself riding his opponent’s body during a fight, hitting his face and screaming his hate. More than one man is usually needed to separate him from his prey. The hate is sometimes so big tears appear in his crazy eyes. Both anger and pain under one mask.

“Rage” was fascinating, but Gaby was no fool. He knew Dean only hoped for one thing when he was in the Cage: to find a strong opponent who could end all of the pain that eats him every day from the inside.

Dean hated himself.

 

 

“Winchester! Get up! The Attorney wants to see you.”

Dean breathed deeply. “Frank Deveraux” … he thought as he looked up. He met him when he was first arrested after his fourth fight and since then they meet way too often. He usually warns him and sends him in jail for a few days, and then Dean would start again.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Frank stood up to hang his coat, and then he sat exhaling loudly. On his desk, the file of Dean Winchester was laying. He opened it with one finger, making himself more comfortable in his big creaking fake leather chair. He just couldn’t help, he really wanted to save the guy. He could feel the pain through his perkiness. He knew his past life, his ruined childhood, the hell he grew up in. He really wanted to give him another image of life, other than the one he built for himself.

But to be saved he needed the will to do it, and Dean only wanted to die. He was already dead for so long in a way. Frank gave a look at another file that was laying on his desk… It seems like misery knocks at all doors… maybe if he could make them meet… maybe it would change Dean’s mind. One last chance and Dean would lose all of it.

Frank was an old attorney at the end of his career. He already knew who would take his place and this man would certainly have no pity and no will to save Dean. In a few months Frank would be retired and he wanted to leave with this special victory. Those broken destinies…

 

 

Someone knocked on the door: the clerk opened it and let a cop enter the room, followed by a young man with his T-shirt full of blood, his jeans and sneakers way too used.

“Thank you Sergeant you can go.” Frank said.

“Are you sure sir?” he asked worried.

“Take his handcuffs off and wait outside please.”

The cop scowled as he gave a suspicious look at Dean who was staring the attorney without any emotion on his face and he took his handcuffs off before leaving the office.

“Sit down Dean.”

He did so, not because he asked him but because he was very tired and in pain. Frank saw it on his face too: wounded eyebrows and lips again. He looked at his bandaged hands:

“Did they call the nurse in charge?” asked Frank.

“Not necessary.” Dean said in a hoarse, far and indifferent tone.

“Why Dean? I’ve found you a nice job, Matt was satisfied with your work and it seems you liked it.”

“It wasn’t my thing I guess.”

“You prefer being locked on that damned cage?” Frank asked angry.

“I do what I want, it’s my damned life!” he growled.

“You call that a life? There are other solutions to grieve than punching human beings.”

“They are no human beings to me”. Dean stated. “This cage is like freedom to me.”

“Dean…” Frank whispered.

“Don’t try to save what can’t be saved sir. Take care about the others who want to be.”

“I’ve never stopped trying Dean, and I haven’t waited for you to do it.”

“Well you haven’t been very efficient then Sir.”

Dean touched his sore lips. Frank breathed heavily before getting up and opening the door.

“Get me some first aid kit and pain killers please!” He asked to the cop outside who hesitated a few seconds.

“Now!”  He ordered.

“Alright Sir.” The cop said taking a look inside the office to see Dean still staring at his hands.

Frank closed the door, his back turned to Dean.

“You can’t go on like this, you’re going straight to the wall”.

“Why the hell would you care?” Dean whispered.

“There are people worrying for you, you know? And I’m one of them whether you like it or not.” He turned is back to face him.

“I won’t let you down you hear me? Never. I’m not letting your past stealing your whole life. You’re young Dean, you still have a future.”

“A life? A future?” he repeated almost screaming. “Leave me alone I don’t give a damn about your pity. Get the hell off my back!”

Frank stepped forward. “Who’s talking about pity? You think you’re the only one who suffered? Who lost a loved one? Do you want me to show you some of my cases? You want me to show you misery? You want me to prove that you can actually succeed if you fight for it?”

“I don’t care about others you hear me? I-DON’T-CARE!” he yelled standing up. “It is MY life, MY hell, it was MY brother, everybody else can die, I don’t want to succeed and get a new life you still haven’t understood that?” he finally let it out loud.

Their looks met, Dean was almost crying but he was keeping it inside as strong as he could, too proud to let go. He sat down scowling.

 

There was a knock on the door and the cop entered right after with his gun in his hand.

“Get that thing back where you found it you idiot!” Where do you think you are? Fort Alamo?” Frank shouted.

“I heard screaming I thought…” the cop said sheepishly.

“Where is the first aid kit?” asked Frank.

The cop took it outside and gave the white case to him. “Get out now.” Frank ordered. He came closer to Dean who was lost in his silence. When Frank took his hands he tensed.

“Calm down I’m just going to take those bandages off and clean your wounds that’s all.”

Dean let go and as Frank was doing what he promised, he observed Dean’s hands. He had screwy fingers witnessing the load of fractures he had, most of the time not healed. Frank cleaned the wounds with alcohol but Dean never showed any pain.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked almost whispering.

“I’m not doing this only for you, you know?” Their eyes met and Dean gave him a weak smile.

“You should know by now I’m a lost cause.”

“There is no such thing as lost cause… or I would have chosen another job.”

“If you say so…” Dean closed his eyes accepting the care he was receiving, and it was not usual for him. The only man he was accepting care from was Gaby, but here he was, too tired to even react or complain. The shouts consumed him.

They were both silent the time Frank cleaned his wounds and contusions. He was smiling at his own image… If his coworkers could see him here, taking care of a prisoner they would think he’s crazy. It wasn’t a thing an attorney was supposed to do but he didn’t care at that moment. He really wanted to save this man. It was worth it he was sure about that. Suddenly he remembered his ex-wife’s phone call…

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

“Jody?”

“hey Frank !”

“What’s the occasion?” he smiled, elbows on his desk. He looked at the clock on the wall: 9.45 pm…

“I see you’re still in your office.” She said. He could feel in her voice she was almost blaming. His work was a source for a lot of happiness but it also caused him his marriage. It took too much place and caused a divorce after 14 years of marriage. She was too tired to deal with it and left. He couldn’t blame her after all.

 

Jody worked for the Social Services with the Police, this is how they met. Frank was 15 years older than her, but they had a common passion: the human soul. She was saving souls and he was saving lives. She knew a lot of people thanks to her job and she never hesitated to help the attorneys when they needed a hand to save a broken soul. Reintegration was very important to both of them, they were animated by the same will to give hop to people.

A lot of Frank “clients” did reintegration sessions in the Social Services centers. Some of them even managed to find a long term job there, and he was very proud when this happened. It was poorly paid but it was the price to pay to start a new life, and it was a good opportunity for Social Services because they really needed more people to work there.

 

 

“Jody?” He finally said.

“I’ve read your message Frank…” He scowled, “the one you left last month. I’ve read his file.”

There was a long silence then Jody said:

“If you want I may have something for you: A six month’s placement in St Gerry Hall.”

“The psychiatric Hospital?”

“I think it’s the perfect place for him after his past life.” Frank heard her searching papers at the other side of the phone. “It’s a place full of lost souls, maybe it’s the opportunity for him to see his own life from a new perspective.”

“If only you were right!” Frank hoped.

“Is it that bad?” Jody worried a little. “Frank you have to tell me if it’s not worth it, I don’t want any problem with Mary she trusts me. Don’t make me regret this.”

“No don’t worry, I’ll let you know. Thanks Jody… Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome. I know you care about that young man… You know you can’t save everybody right Frank?”

He sighed. “Yeah I know. But he’s… different. You understand ?”

“I do. Let me know if it’s ok then, but don’t be too long I have a lot of Franks harassing me” She smiled and Frank knew it even through the phone.

“Yes but I’m your one and only Frank anyway.”

“True. You are. Bye Frank, you should go home now.”

“I was about to leave when you called actually.” He lied.

“Yeah right.” She laughed. “Goodnight Frank.”

“Goodnight Jody. And thank you again, for everything.”

 

Frank didn’t wait too long before Dean was arrested again two days later for another “Cage fight”. This cage was only Dean’s own prison’s reflect, the one he built in his head and from which he never wanted to go out.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Frank stood up using his desk to help him, his legs were sore after staying in that position to clean Dean’s wounds.

“Thank you” Dean said shyly.

“For the other injuries…” Deveraux said and Dean looked at him, “I’ll ask they take you to St James’ ER.”

“Not necessary.”

“I’m not asking for your permission. You’re currently under the State’s responsibility… and so under MY responsibility. You’re going to St James whether you like it or not.” He went to sit behind his desk letting the first aid kit on the ground. “You want pain killers?”

“No.”

Frank took the file on his left. “let me make a proposition to you.”

Dean sighed “Again!”

“Wait before you whine ok?”

“I don’t need a job. I’m all good by myself.”

“Right I can see that” Frank said sarcastically.

“I earn more with one fight than you working whole month.”

“… when you win.”

“I win often enough to live at least.”

Frank sank into his chair. “I’ll be retired in a few months and you’ll have a not so nice attorney in front of you then. He will throw you in prisons way less friendly, you can’t even understand what the hell it is before you went.”

“I’ll get through it. I know how to defend myself and I know hell better than you do.”

“Does it mean you want to live in it again?”

Dean’s face froze and for the first time since he knew him, Frank saw the fear on it for a few second. He knew that his words touched him.

“So here is the proposition…” Dean scowled but let Frank continue “I found a six months placement for you. It’s paid a minimum.”

“Great.”

“Have you ever heard of St Gerry Hall?” Frank asked ignoring his sarcastic tone.

Dean shook his head to say no.

“It’s a psychiatric hospital for poor souls in north town.”

“Poor souls?” asked Dean.

“People who nobody care about, with no family, no money, no social protection...”

“Some place to die then?”

Frank glared at him “The staff there is doing his best to help them but they have no resources and survive only thanks to these people’s generosity and some rich donors.”

“And?”

“And? …” repeated Frank.

“What do you want me to do in a place like that? I have no degree and no experience to work with crazy people.”

“They are not crazy” Frank said raisin his tone.

“It is a psychiatric hospital… it would surprise me if they were sane” Dean justified.

“What do you think?” asked Frank to help Dean stay focus on his matter.

“I don’t think anything but I have the feeling I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

Dean looked at his fingers and asked “When is that crappy thing supposed to start?”

Frank smiled. “I just have one phone call to make.”

“It’s Tuesday. Let me till next Monday.”

“Why?”

“I’m just asking as a favor.”

Frank bent on his desk “Are you planning more fights? I hope you’re kidding me.”

“Who’s talking about fighting?”

“Don’t think I’m that stupid kiddo.” Frank stood up. “I’m calling St Gerry this afternoon and you’ll be there early tomorrow morning.”

Dean scowled full of rage.

“And don’t use that behavior with me it won’t work.”

“Next Monday.” Dean affirmed again.

“Tomorrow!” Frank shouted.

“I will do whatever I want even in a place like that anyway.”

Frank got around his desk furious. Dean never saw him like this with a huge vein popping out his forehead.

“You listen to me Dean Winchester: This is your last chance. If you don’t take it you’ll end up locked in a cage way more terrifying than the one you love to wallow so much! I don’t want anybody to call me one day announcing me you’re dead; you understand that, you idiot? Prison will be death for you, and not the one you wish for, the one you flee from!” Frank yelled. “Stop destroying yourself like that damn it! You did nothing wrong Dean, you hear me? You have nothing to be blamed for! Don’t let him win!”

 

 

“He’s already won.” Dean said tears in his eyes.

“No Dean, you-are-alive!”

“Yeah for Sam, only for him and his stupid promise.” A tear run down his cheek.

“Bullshit! This is only an excuse. You’re alive because you want to be.” Frank looked at him tenderly. “Life hasn’t ended yesterday, Dean. It’s going on but you forgot to walk through it.

“Why don’t you leave me alone?”

“Because I’m a pain in the ass.”

Dean sat back down avoiding a laugh. “Alright… The sooner I start the sooner I’ll be done with it.”

“Promise me one thing.”

Dean froze. “I don’t promise anymore.”

“Can I hope you’ll stop all of this?” Frank asked pointing Dean’s hands.

“Consider yourself lucky I’m doing your stupid placement already.”

Frank sighed. “At least try to not get caught next time. And take care of yourself.”

Dean looked at him a long time and get up. “Can I go?”

“Sign this first.” Frank opened the file.

“What is it?”

“Your contract with St Gerry Hall.”

“What is I don’t like it or they don’t like me?”

“I would try to end it the friendly way I guess.”

Dean took the pen Frank was handing to him and read the contract.

Thirty hours a week, weekend included. There were no specific details about the work he would do but it didn’t bother him. He’s made a lot of things already, even cleaning toilets. It couldn’t be worse. He signed and gave the pen back.

“Happy?”

“For you yes.”

“So can I go now?”

“Sergeant will take you to St James and then back to the police station so you can get your stuff back. Then you’ll be free to go… except if you break your contract without any warning, or if you don’t get to your work place in time for the next six months.”

“What would happen then?”

“We would meet again and you wouldn’t like it.”

Dean sighed deeply “Fine.”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Dean went to the ER to have some exam done. It showed a broken rib. Except prescribe pain killers and some rest, doctors could not do anything more.

The sergeant drove him back to the station without a word. He made him sign some papers and gave him his stuff back: a wallet with 105$ in it, some coins, and his room and car keys. The only valuable thing he had was from his uncle Bobby, when he died a few years ago. Bobby knew how much Dean loved this car and he also knew he would take care of it more than his own life.

Uncle bobby… The only person who was always nice to him and his brother, but he lived so far away. He never knew… or if he did it was too late. Maybe this is what killed him after all.

 

Dean didn’t sleep that night. Deveraux gave him the name and address of the St Gerry Hall Director. He had to be in her office early in the morning. He was kind of scared of the idea to be locked with crazy people. Or maybe he was scared to feel at home and to share their craziness. He got up and had a glass of whisky. He looked at the window, the street was empty. He made a face when alcohol touched his sore lips.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

He parked the Impala right in front of St Gerry’s front gate. The first thing Dean noticed was the building. He expected some high grey walls but he found a huge mansion at the end of a big well maintained garden. And even if from where he stood he could see the bars at the windows he couldn’t help but smile. On the side of the mansion he could see some private rooms. He got out of the car, approached the big front gate and ringed.

“Yes?” A male voice came out.

“I’m Dean Winchester, I have an appointment with Mary Campbell.”

“One moment please.”

Dean took another look around him.

In a window of the third floor. A man with a very pale face, he looked like he was sick, his forehead leaning against the window.

 

The gate opened, Dean went down the alley in his car until he reached the main yard. The gate closed behind him.

The man hit his forehead in rhythm against the window.

“Castiel you’re going to hurt yourself sweetheart. Stop it.” The nurse said.

 

 

End of chapter I

 

                                                                                                                                        @copyright2013

**Please don’t hesitate to leave a review, don’t hesitate to use this fic to talk and to share opinions.**

**It’s here for people to think, and to make people understand.**

**It’s here for all the victims, to bring them out of the silence they’re locked in.**

**I wrote it to let them know they’re not alone.**

**People need to know, and they eventually need to help, to hold their hands out and to break the taboo.**

**I will feel content and I’ll think I succeeded the challenge only if readers are touched by the story and by the characters.**

**They are the voice of the speechless victims.**

**Thank you**

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. The attic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING : Violence, abuse and rape on this chapter

He opened his eyes and shivered. He was so cold and hungry!

Left here in his kingdom made of beams and wood boards, he lifted his blue eyes up to the skylight and saw the blue sky without any cloud. He smiled a little when he thought about him flying like a bird, the same birds that were flying in front of the skylight, leaving shadows on his skin so pale that it was almost transparent.

 He never left this room. This empty attic was his only home for more than 30 years. There was an old and dirty bed in a corner. He could feel the springs hurting his back and his soul. It was so unpleasant that he slept on the old wood floor. In one of the walls there were a tiny sink, some awful chemical toilet, and a too small table was fixed on the ground. Ugly and used pajamas were hanging on the wall. There were one chair and one shelf with old books on it. A small plastic mirror was hanging near the sink… “That way you can’t hurt yourself angel.”

 

He looked at the shelf and remembered his hell started that day, when he was a child and he was listening to her reading the Bible. He asked her to teach him how to read the Word of God. She accepted because he was “old enough”, she said, though he didn’t know old enough for what.When she raised her hand the first time and their eyes met, he knew. She would teach him how to read and write using slaps and ruler hits. And then she used a stick. She was beating till she couldn’t breathe, and when she was out of breathe she was caressing his hair saying all of this was for his own good, that one day he would thank her because she did this with love. He ended up believing it as she was his only landmark.

 

And then he became a teenager and he discovered his own body. He didn’t understand how it could react though.

He was so thin and weak because she fed him just enough to keep him alive. Not too much because he couldn’t be strong enough to fight or flee.

Why would he flee anyway? He was programmed to stay and be obedient. Why would he flee when he didn’t know anything about the outside world? She always talked about it like it was hell, but actually hell was inside that attic. But he didn’t know this.

“See, angel, I’m here to protect you. You need to stay here, in a safe place so I can watch over you.”

Sometimes he wanted to be deaf to not hear that awful voice anymore, but at the same time she was the only presence he had.

 And sometime there was a man opening the trapdoor. He wasn’t speaking. He never even looked at him like he was invisible. He was fixing the toilet or the tap, or he was cleaning after the mess. After the angel turned into rage, when the human being inside wanted to get out of this body and fly like the birds.

 

She found him a morning enjoying himself. He was very surprised to discover the pleasure of his own caress. He was loving himself on his own since nobody wanted to love him. It was something smooth and surprising at the same time bringing him the pleasure that was so forbidden. This pleasure was so pleasant for someone who knew only violence.

She hit him so hard that time, again and again. It became almost normal to him, how could he possibly know it wasn’t? It was all his life, the only way he knew.

 Her voice pierced through the silence. She caught his wrist and twisted it so hard she almost broke it. He screamed in pain, and she beat him again so he would stop. She smiled when she saw his manhood right here, and she took it in her hand. She tightened so strong he collapsed.

 

 Years went by and craziness found a place in his mind. He was locked in a new attic, the one he built in his own head and for which he wouldn’t give the key to anybody. He spoke less and less and one day he just stopped speaking forever. He was mute. The more she beat the quieter he became.

He was eating, drinking, washing, getting to the toilet and that’s it. Conditioned. Once a week she was bringing an electric razor for him to shave. Once a month she was cutting his hair not caring about how he would look. He wasn’t reacting to anything anymore. He was locked in prison. She was talking to him like she would talk to a doll, but she stopped beating him that often.

 He wasn’t sleeping that much either. He was staring at the walls or the sky with an empty look. Sometimes she was emerging in his room in the middle of the night to beat him without a reason, maybe to evacuate all the anger eating her soul. Then he was searching her eyes to scream at them with his own look.

But why was she doing this?

She repeated he was evil and God was guiding her hand to bring him back on the path of redemption.

 Sometimes he was waking up suddenly to see her lying against him, her hand on his chest, smiling. And then her hand would fall south. He was too weak, too tired and too crazy to react, but he knew she was violating his life. He let her do what she wanted and during that time he was flying to the shy in his head, till his orgasm came suddenly.

 

 He was alone for a few days. He knew it because the sun came up and down six times. He likes counting. He had nothing to eat so he drank a lot to not feel the hunger. He was so skinny you could only see his giant blue eyes on his pale face, staring at the emptiness.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Dean entered the mansion. There was a huge lobby with 2 stairs to go to the first floor.

“May I help you?”

He turned and saw a woman smiling at him. He stepped forward feeling uncomfortable.

“I have an appointment with Misses Campbell.”

“And you are …?”

“Dean Winchester.”

She looked at her agenda. “Yes indeed. Sit here” she said pointing a sofa, “I’ll go get her, she’s still visiting her patients.”

Visiting her patients. Those words stayed in Dean’s head for a moment, and then he nodded at her before sitting.

 

 

Visiting patients every morning was essential to Mary Campbell. Her patients… even if most of them weren’t noticing her presence she was always taking time to talk to them. They had to know they’re not alone. Ideally she would want more time to do it and more people to take care of the hardest cases. Nurses already had to heal them, wash them, feed them, they had no time to care too much. It was all a matter of time. They were all living with a very specific and well organized schedule. The smallest change could have disastrous consequences.

Her face changed when she approached his room. He was standing at the window as usual, looking at the sky, lost. Sometimes he was hitting his forehead against it in rhythm like an invisible clock ticking.

 “Hello Castiel.” She said.

He didn’t react, he never did. She was absolutely certain there was still a flame of life in this broken body but she had no time and no way to help him getting out of his prison. He became a lost soul among others here after the press stopped making money on him. “The Attic Boy” as they said.

He was no boy though; the doctors estimated he was around 30 or 35. The police researched lost children in their database after they found a picture of Elisabeth McLean holding a scared boy in her living room. His look was speaking for itself.  That boy was soon identified as the attic boy thanks to science. DNA showed he was no relative with Elizabeth and him. He had no family. Who was he?

 

Four months after he was found there was nothing they could find about him. Missouri, one of the nurses, called him Castiel because he entered St Gerry Hall a Thursday, and Castiel is known to be the angel of Thursdays. She thought this angel name would fit perfectly with his angelic blue eyes. Mary agreed and the attic boy became Castiel, the John Doe of St Gerry Hall.

 

Her phone rang and she stepped aside letting Garth, another care taker, close the door.

“Yes Lisa?” Mary closed her eyes and ran a hand through her long blond hair. “My God I completely forgot about him! Make him wait in my office I’m coming right now.” She hung up.

“Garth, would you please finish the visit for me? I have to go meet our new probationer.”

“Sure Mary.”

She left and he went to the next room. Castiel turned to face the door, his look still empty.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

The postman was surprised to have still no answers after ringing the doorbell. He called several times but Mrs. McLean wasn’t answering either. Since the death of her nephew, Ralph, she was living locked in her house so he was not too worried the first days, but today was the fourth day with no sign of life.

He turned all around the house, looking at all the windows to try to see her in the mess that was her house now. He finally saw her in the kitchen, dead on the ground. He tried to open the door without success. He broke a window he almost threw up when he breathed the awful stinky air inside the house. She was obviously dead for a few days already.

 The coroner said it was an accident. There was blood in the corner of the kitchen table, and there was some oil spread on the ground and on her shoes so she probably slipped, fell and her head broke. They took the body out but nobody looked around in the house. She was known to live alone with her nephew Ralph since her husband and his son died 37 years ago from a car accident.

 

 The day right after, the bored kids from the neighborhood decided to enter her house and see what they could steal. They did it at night of course, they needed sensations.

The four friends knew her close neighbors weren’t home so they turned on the light in the whole house. They laughed and screamed when they saw the horror of that weird and dirty house. There was a stuffed dog, her dog, standing right next to the stairs.

“Johnny, come on, upstairs!” Two of them went upstairs while the other two were visiting the ground floor.

 Noises? shouts?… he didn’t understand what it was. It was actually laughter. He never heard such noise. He looked up to the skylight, the sky was dark.

“Johnny! Look there!” The boy said pointing the trapdoor.

“Wow you see how many locks there are? Open it Marty!”

“How? It’s too high!”

“There is a scale right next to it dumbass!” Johnny took it, climbed it and painfully unlocked all of the trapdoor’s locks. Marty followed him. A cut electrical wire fell so they jumped and laughed again.

He slowly looked through the opened trapdoor. He winced, there was a horrible smell in that attic!

“It stinks in here! And I can’t see anything!”

“Hold on I’ll be back”

Johnny heard his friend getting back downstairs in a rush. He opened the trapdoor further and yelled when he saw a pair of eyes shining next to his face. He fell and broke his leg, crying and screaming at the same time.

 

Cops discovered him this day too. It was like facing the horror. He was so skinny he barely looked human except for his eyes which would traumatize Johnny for the rest of his life. He was transported to St James hospital in critical condition. He stayed in a coma for a few days. Doctors all asked the same question: how was he still alive?

Of course the police wanted to know who he was. Mc Lean left nothing about him, no explanation. He was just an unidentified prisoner in her attic, eaten by humidity and dirt.

 

He woke up in panic, several nurses had to maintain him in his bed which made him panic even more. They had to tranquilize him and when he woke up, he stared at the ceiling with an empty look. Since this day he stayed petrified behind the impassable wall of his memory.

 He was eating but he wasn’t even looking at his plate so he was spilling all of the food on him. They had to feed him too. He wasn’t reacting. Everybody had the impression his body was here but his soul wasn’t. He was going to the bathroom alone at least. He never wanted to be touched and if the doctor tried he could become violent toward them and he could even hurt himself. More than one person in his room was just impossible.

 One day one of the nurses worried to see he wasn’t going out of the bathroom. She came in and saw he was curled under the sink. She tried to get him up but he yelled and pushed her so hard her eyebrow ended up hitting the doorknob. They had to tranquilize and tie him this time.

He was looking at this strange world with fear and the more he was seeing people around him the more he was hiding in his attic.

 

Not knowing what else to do with him, the doctors called Campbell. She came to visit him in his room and when she entered he was standing up fixing the sky through the window. His thinness scared her. She stood next to him but he didn’t react.

“Hello, my name is Mary Campbell.”

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

“Hello I’m Mary Campbell, sorry I’m late I forgot what time we had to meet”

Dean stood up and nodded to greet her.

“It’s okay.”

She sat down and so did Dean.

“Dean Winchester right?” She finally looked at him and was immediately surprised by the depth of his look. He felt uncomfortable but didn’t say anything about it because she looked gentle and warm.

“Why are you here?”

“A six months’ placement.” He said a bit on the defensive.

“This is not what I’m asking. Mr. Deveraux sent you so I presume…” She suspended her sentence and Dean wanted to speak but she added quickly “The truth, please.”

He looked down.

“Underground fights.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He sank in his chair. “I was fighting to live. Like… boxing but… in its illegal version.”

“I know what underground fights are thank you.” She pushed a hair lock away. “how old are you?”

“Almost 30.”

“You look already older.” She opened her desk drawer to take a key. “I suppose nobody told you about St Gerry hall or how we’re planning to use your capacities?”

“No madam.” He was very surprised to sound so polite, but she inspired respect.

“Come with me, I’ll give you a tour and I’ll explain what I’m waiting from you. I prefer to warn you it won’t be a very glorious job.”

“Don’t worry, no job can scare me.”

“Good.” She stood up. “Follow me.”

 

They walked a few seconds without a word, they crossed only a care taker who smiled at him.

“I’d rather be clear right now: we call all the patients by their names here, no stupid names such as crazy, loony, mad, maniac, nut or anything. They are human beings, it’s not because nobody care about them anymore that we have to do the same.”

Dean looked at her neck from behind as she was walking before him. Everything was different in her: the sound of her voice, the words she used… a whole new world for him!

“This is the key to the supply closet. You’ll find all the equipment you need.”

“Equipment?”

“Yes.” She turned to face him, “you’ll be in charge of the rooms cleaning but only in the West quarter. The patients there are not dangerous.”

“What about the East quarter?” he dared asking.

She smiled. “Only the West quarter you heard me?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Good.”

She turned right and opened the refectory’s door using a code. 1967.

“Memorize this code, you’ll need it every day.” She entered followed by Dean. “Here we serve lunch and dinner to the easiest patients. Breakfasts are served in each room.”

She walked further and opened another door with another code.

“Remember this one too: 0211. It’s access to the staff refectory. We can eat at any hour of the day, Mark is our cook, he does miracles you’ll see.” She nicely looked at him.

“So I’ll eat here.”

“Of course meals are included in your contract.”

“Oh.” He smiles, content.

“Let’s talk about your contract”. She said while she stopped walking. “30 hours a week, weekend included.”

“Yeah I know… and paid a minimum.”

“Believe me I would love to pay all of you more than you’re paid, and I would love to offer a full time job but I can’t afford it.”

“It’s better than nothing.”

“A few of the employees live in the private rooms.” She turned to face him, “If I’d offer you a private room would you work more for free?” asked her a bit shy.

“What do you mean exactly?” Dean asked surprised.

“35 or 37 hours a week for example.”

Dean frowned. Gaby wouldn’t like it but his own room for free, free food… Six months was not the end of the world. He would find some time to do a few fights a month and after all he wasn’t the only one fighting for Gaby. It was a great opportunity to save some money.

“Alright.”

She smiled.

“Of course it would be wise to keep this little arrangement between us.”

“Of course.”

She laughed. “Come on I’ll show you your room.” She turned and looked at him. “Thank you. You see… we own the mansion, some rich donor left it to us, but all its activity works thanks to donations. I pay the staff with the little help of the state. I buy low cost medicines thanks to St James hospital. We work together. I would like to do more for the patients but…” She sighed, “At least I can count on a few volunteer and loyal nurses. They come and give some time to help the staff here.”

Dean looked her face lightening when she talked about her mansion and its residents. He had no faith in humanity anymore but she sure was special.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

The room was spacious and bright. Dean threw his bad on the bed. There was an empty closet, a television a coffee machine, a hotplate, a fridge, a separated bathroom with a toilet and a sink, and the showers were at the end of the hallway. It was way better than his usual motel rooms he rent.

“Is it ok for you?” Mary asked.

“It’s perfect.”

“I’ll let you settle down. I’ll introduce you to Phil later. He’s the one who’s in charge of the East quarter, he will explain to you what you’ll have to do every day.”

“They are the dangerous ones right?”

She smiled. He was curious and she liked it because curious people are usually ready to open to others.

“Let’s just say they are harder cases but I won’t deny you should avoid some of them if you care about your balls young man.”

He stared at her shocked. Funny language for such a woman!

“See you at noon for lunch?”

“Okay”. He smiled still thinking about her previous words.

She was on her way out when she heard him call. “Yes?” she asked turning back.

“Please call me Dean.”

“Alright, Dean. You can call me Mary then.”

“hum… no ma’am.” He smiled and disappeared in his room again.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Missouri entered with the plate and put him on the table.

“It’s time to eat Castiel.” She said in the softest voice she had.

He obeyed without looking at the nurse. She sat next to him looking at him. He took the toast and put it in his mouth still without looking at it. He did the same with the glass of water and of course he spilled some on his clothes.

“Come on…” She laughed and took the napkin from the plate.

“I’m going to wipe your chin sweetheart. Stay still ok? It’s just me.”

She wiped carefully sensing him sinking in his chair. He really couldn’t take it, no contact, but he finally tolerated a few after loads of efforts and hours of patience. He could at least be shaved without causing any mess.

 “Look at me Castiel.” She insisted and he turned his face to look at her, sinking his blue eyes in hers. He was really looking at her, his look wasn’t empty. She smiled at him and he tilted his head frowning as usual.

She was the only one who could to this with him, the only one he was looking in the eye without an empty look. She was the only one who could share such an intimate moment with him. It was like in the eyes of the nurse he could find a trace of humanity he could grip to not fall too far.

 She wanted to touch his face so much, to show him her hand wasn’t here to slap, to show him tenderness after all the violence he lived. But how to cure 30 years of physical and psychological abuse? It was almost impossible. She would simply appreciate his look and it was actually quite a victory already.

“You still don’t want to go out?”

He stood up quickly and went to the window.

“As you wish.” She took the plate, “See you for dinner Castiel.”

As an answer she heard his forehead hitting the window. She sighed and went out.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

 

Dean went out in the main yard facing the park. He looked at his car, checked it was well locked and went to the private rooms’ area.

He felt a strange sensation in his neck, he turned around but saw nothing.

At the third floor, a face against a window was observing him. He didn’t see him.

 

Castiel started to hit his forehead against the glass again.

 

 

End chapter II.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll post a new chapter next sunday


	3. Each our own hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning  
> rape and domestic violence

Dean held his cold hand. Sam was late and his school bag was too heavy. He was tired due to a hard day at school and a lack of sleep the previous night. His dad John and his mom Karen fought till dawn. Then they loudly made peace at 4 am. Sam was only 7 so he snuggled up to his brother’s protecting chest. Dean held him tight in his arms whispering comforting words.

Sam looked at his brother more and more worried as they approached hell. Dean exhaled and stopped to readjust his schoolbag. He turned to his brother and smiled, then he ruffled his hair.

“Ready Tiger?”

Sam nodded. When they entered the house they didn’t hear a sound. The television was off which means John wasn’t back from work yet. Or maybe he was still at Lilith’s Bar considering the hour.

Dean helped Sam taking off his coat and then threw his own bag aside.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Same as you.”

Dean saw his thumb and caught his hand. “You really need to stop that, you’re a big boy now you know?”

Sam begged him with his eyes.

“You and your damn puppy look!” He laughed and his little brother did so while he took him to the kitchen. Dean winced. Sam just woke his sore shoulder up, memory of one more beating.

 

The kitchen was very messy, the dirty dishes were in the sink for days and empty bottles were lying on the ground and on the table. There even was a broken glass near the backdoor to remember yesterday’s fight. The backdoor was leading to the backyard where John was tying Dean to the doghouse when he was full of rage. Dean shared the whole night with their dog Barjack when this happened. At least Barjack was full of warmth and tenderness in this hell. He wanted to protect the kids but was often sharing their beatings and their pain. They probably even shared their points of view about human beings.

Dean opened the fridge, it was almost empty. He found an opened milk bottle and smiled after he smelt it. He took a glass, washed it and filled it with milk for his brother who was sitting at the table trying to take the empty bottles off.

“Here.” Dean offered.

“What about you?”

“I’ll have some water, you know I can’t digest milk very well.” Dean lied. He looked at the calendar stuck on the fridge to check his mom’s working hours. He prayed for her to come back before his dad. She was an alcoholic too but at least she always defended her children when John was blaming them. Problem was she often worked 3 or 4 nights a week and her absence then was worse than hell.

The front door opened, Dean tensed, Sam stood up and went to his brother to hide. When Dean heard the footsteps on the floor he already knew and he felt tears in his eyes and anger in his gut.

“Would you go to your room and begin your homework Sammy? I’ll come in a minute to help you.”

Sam shook his head begging his brother to not leave him, holding tight on his shirt. He was 7 but he knew why Dean was asking this. He sure would have to put his fingers in his ears to not hear the beating and the whimpering of his brother.

“Please Sammy, for me.” He smiled and Sam stepped back a little but did obey.

Sam moved against the wall to avoid his father… too late. John caught his sweater’s collar.

“You don’t say hello?”

“Hi dad.” He was scared and ready to lift his arms to avoid his fists.

“Where are you going Sam?” John asked coughing, his breath full of alcohol and cigarettes.

“Do my homework.”

“Bullshit! You don’t need that I already told you! You’ll end up in a factory like your useless mother!”

“No I want to be a doctor.” Sam proudly answered.

John gave him a weird smile.

“I’ll heal mom and Dean.”

John’s smile froze and Sam already regretted what he said. He tried to run to the hallway but it was too late, John was frustrated and he would show it. Sam just gave him a great opportunity for that.

John lifted his hand and slapped his son right on his face, throwing him against the wall and opening his lip.

“You little BRAT!”

He started to cry. John stepped back and lifted his hand a second time but this time it ended up on Dean’s forearm.

“Don’t touch him!” Dean yelled giving him a death stare.

John looked at him right in the eyes for a long moment.

“Sammy go the hell upstairs” Dean suddenly said hearing him sniffing behind his back.

“No Dean I don’t wanna go without you.” He pleaded.

“Sam!” Dean urged.

The little brother finally obeyed, Dean heard him climbing the stairs crying. He closed his eyes and here was hell again.

 

 

His mom’s voice woke him up. He actually collapsed on the floor after the violence of the beating. Each move was painful.

“Mom…” He started to cry.

“Oh my sweet little love…” She said caressing his hair. She helped him getting up. Dean knew she drank too because of the smell of her breath, but she wasn’t completely drunk yet.

Climbing the stairs was torture. His mom was barely standing but at least she was here helping him. She made him sit on the bathtub and helped him take his shirt off. Dean noticed she was crying silently. Seeing his body full of scars and contusions she put her hand softly on his side but he winced.

“My poor baby…” She fell and cried with her head on her knees. Dean needed comfort but he had to comfort her instead. He put his hand on her head.

“It’s ok mommy.”

He turned to the left and saw Sam in tears at the door. He quickly swiped the blood from his mouth and tried to hide the sadness in his eyes. Dean saw anger in his brother’s eyes though… Sammy wouldn’t hold his brother’s hand from now, he would put it on his shoulder to support him.

 

 

***************

 

 

Dean was working in St Gerry for almost a week now and he had to admit he liked his job. Cleaning rooms wasn’t very rewarding but it wasn’t worse than any other job he had. It was actually better since he had his own place and food for free. Mark was a great cook, he made nice meals with a few money. Dean was even sleeping better, he was able to sleep a few hours straight now even if he still woke up in sweat after a nightmare.

He considered this mansion as a safe place despite all the craziness within those walls.

 

He was getting along with Phil, another “cleaner” as he called himself, pretty well. He helped Dean learning the job because even it wasn’t something hard to do, there were specificities. He had to sweep every day, wash the grounds once a week or more in case of emergency, check the toilet and empty the trashcan in each room. He also had to clean all the showers and check there was nothing missing.

He wasn’t meeting a lot of patients because he often cleaned their rooms when they weren’t in it. They were in the day room or the refectory most of the time doing some common activities organized by Missouri, the retired nurse, or by Leyla Fredges, the occupational therapist.

Dean got along with Missouri since the first day. She was from New-Orleans and had a strong south accent and a warm bossy voice. She was a widow so this place became her second home and the staff became her second family. Patients loved her very much and so did all of the staff members, especially Mary who was deeply admiring her. Her plump body and her bright face attracted everybody and her laughter was bringing life to the mansion.

 

 

Dean was lost in his thoughts holding his cold cup of coffee.

“Hey!”

He jumped and Phil took a sit in front of him.

“You mind if I sit here?” He asked putting his coffee and a plate with two croissants in it on the table.

“It’s too late you’re already here.” Dean smiled.

“Yeah” Phil laughed.

“How you doing?” Dean asked.

“I’m ok”

“You’re already done with your work?”

“Hell no! You can’t imagine how lucky you are being in charge with West quarter… not much to clean but on the East quarter the pee and shit everywhere. A real delight!” explained Phil.

“Well switch with me I don’t mind.”

Phil raised an eyebrow and laughed “You have some strange ideas buddy! I wonder why you would clean all of the crazies’ mess.”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to call them like that.” Dean smiled and took a sip of his coffee. He winced but even cold coffee was good enough for him.

“Yeah on the West side they’re not but on my quarter it’s another story.”

“Have you been… attacked?” Dean asked curious.

“Not really. Most of the time they’re on medication or tied to their beds, and some rooms I can’t even enter before the patient’s out or…” He drew a line across his neck “Couic!... There are some pretty sick souls there.”

Dean was listening attentively.

“One day a patient threatened me with his fork.”

Dean laughed “Thank god he didn’t point at you balls!” and he laughed harder seeing Phil’s shocked face.

He was surprised to laugh like that as he hasn’t for so long. It was like hearing someone else’s echo, but it was actually his laugh resonating between the walls, like his soul was starting to free from its chains. He was suddenly scared and got up.

“I gotta go. See you tonight for dinner?”

Phil looked at him a bit confused. “Okay” he said smiling at him a bit worried.

 

Dean left the refectory, his shift was over but it was only 1:30 pm. He needed to take some fresh air. He needed to find his reality back so he searched for a number on his phone.

“Hey Gab! It’s me.” He said faking a cheerful tone.

He waved at the front desk secretary and went out. He opened the door of the Impala and felt this strange sensation in his neck again, like someone was watching. He turned around but saw nobody. He had no good eyes anyway, after years of beating it wasn’t so much surprising. He shrugged and got in his car.

 

 

**************

 

 

Missouri observed some change in Castiel’s behavior. He was still standing at the window but he had a tiny reaction, his shoulders shivered a bit and he knocked his forehead against the window. She left the sheets she was changing in the bed and stepped toward him. He was staring at something in the yard. She raised an eyebrow and took her glasses off her pocket to look outside. There she saw him near his car. She smiled at Castiel’s reflection.

“His name is Dean.” He didn’t react. “Look at me Castiel” she softly lifted his chin with her finger “Castiel… look at me.”

 

*************

 

 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” She violently took his chin in her hand searching for his look. He hadn’t looked at her for months.

“You ungrateful creature! After all I did for you this is how you thank me? By hating me and disrespect me?”

He was sitting here with his knees on his chest. He was so thin you could see his rib bones. His backbone was showing too. Years of abuse, pain and lack of medical care weakened him so much he was just surviving. He was a soul locked in a flesh vessel. He had trouble breathing for a few days and his eyes were so hollowed they were almost lost inside his brain. He was like an angel waiting for the death Cerberus.

 

She stood up using her stick, a wood cane she never left. She was using it to walk and sometimes she was using it to hit. She looked old, her skin was black-spotted. She was just full of anger and she spited it on this poor soul who never rebelled but never really acknowledged either.

She crushed his feet with the extremity of her stick and broke one of his toes. His bones were so weak they could break easily, it was like the attic boy became the crystal boy. He had no strength to scream or cry. He was not a child anymore, he was not a teenager either, he was just a poor man.

 

She lifted his chin with her stick this time.

“I will die soon” she whispered smiling.

No reaction.

“You’ll die here all alone, in this attic, nobody knows you even exist because you’re NOBODY! LOOK AT ME!” she yelled. “You’re the evil and nobody will want to save you.”

She suddenly moved back shocked: he finally sank his cold eyes in hers.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that you hear me? Look down!” she ordered between rage and anger. She had the feeling he was piercing her soul. She raised her stick to hit him, and in a slow but precise move he caught it. She was so upset, it’s been years he hadn’t such a reaction. Unfortunately he was way too weak and in a second she pushed him and stepped back. He closed his eyes waiting the punishment but he only heard the trapdoor closing.

When he was younger he rebelled more often so she drugged him and tied him on his bed, letting him in his own faeces for several days. The ultimate humiliation. She wanted to control the rebel creature.

 

 

The worst were rapes though.  She was lying next to him to masturbate and he was painfully trying to stop his body to react. She was lying on him and he was feeling her warmth melting with his own. She said it was natural and he shouldn’t be ashamed or scared because it was love and she loved him despite his evilness. But he knew deep down it was bad. He associated this to a new form of pain.

He was closing his eyes hard. He so wished he could put his fingers in his ears and stop listening to that high voice expressing the pleasure so loud. He hated his body and he hated the way it reacted to her touch. He hated the wave of pleasure crossing his gut and making him moan. He just hated himself, he was evil, dirty and he deserved all of this.

He broke inside and separated his flesh and his soul… his soul became a bird flying to avoid that strange woman talking about his prison and his death.

He ended up not reacting anymore. Ever. He finally learnt how to control his body even when she was trying to make it react under her fingers. It was like a personal revenge even if it was so little.

 

He survived this hell, human being can be stronger than you’d think.

But she would soon find something else to enslave him.

 

 

**************

 

“Where is he right now?” Missouri asked herself.

“Castiel? Would you look at me please?”

He refused to turn to her. She wanted to force him gently but he just couldn’t take his eyes off the car leaving the yard. She tried one more time… and it was too much. He knocked his head hard on the window and his forehead wounded.

He didn’t hear him, nobody could hear his pain. He screamed internally and fell on his knees because of the violence of the shock.

 

 

**************

 

 

Dean entered the building and climbed the stairs quickly till he reached the fourth floor. He hated elevators because he couldn’t stand being locked in a so small space, he was suffocating.

He knocked on the door. “Come in, it’s open!”

Gaby was on the phone talking business… bets, of course. He was smiling. He turned to Dean and nodded to him to show him the sofa. Dean first went to the kitchen and took a beer in the fridge then he sat on the couch. He knew this place well because he spent a few nights in the guest room. When the fights were too hard Gaby didn’t want the guys to be alone so he was taking care of them here. The Cage couldn’t wait, Dean knew it was for both interests.

He brought them to the local clinic only when the injuries were too critical. He was an ambulance driver when he was younger but he was no expert or doctor. Gaby was very honest and never cheated and that what Dean liked about him. He knew he wasn’t only a fighter for him and Gaby knew Dean liked to fight. Screaming his pain through those fights was a good compromise for both of them, and Gaby liked Dean.

 

The bedroom door opened and a woman in a night-dress appeared. She greeted Dean with a large smile.

“Hey Bibi!”

“Hey Rage!”

She never called Gaby’s fighters by their real names. Dean didn’t know why but it was ok for him. He’s known Gaby for years, and Bibi, a 28 years old mixed-raced woman, was his official lover. Of course she knew he had unofficial lovers sharing his bed too but she knew she was his favorite and it was enough for her. It was her Gaby was going out in public with.

“I heard you found a new job?” she asked on her way to the kitchen, kissing Gaby at the same time. “With loonies?”

“Yep. It won’t change from here” he replied putting his empty beer on the coffee table.

“That’s not very nice” she joked.

Gaby finally hung up. “Will you go get dressed? You see how late it is?”

“You kept me from sleeping too late babe.”

She stroked his butt from one hand, holding her coffee with the other. She kissed him on is neck which made him shiver.

“Alright I let you deal with your business I go take a shower” she said on her way back to her bedroom.

Gaby looked at her as she was leaving the room, her night dress was so transparent he could see her butt. He stroked his beard and turned to Dean.

“Are you ok? You haven’t answered my last calls.”

“I warned you I have to behave now or it’s jail. I’m kinda tired of it.”

“I see… so you want to be back in the cage?”

“Yes. The job is great but it’s poorly paid.”

Gaby sat in front of him on the coffee table.

“There is a fight this weekend if you want.” He proposed.

Dean looked at him smiling with an empty look on his face.

“You sure you’re ok? I can still count on you right?” Gaby worried.

“I haven’t called to dump you Gaby you know me.”

Gaby stood up.

“When are you free?”

“Saturday and Sunday.” Dean replied.

“I planned a fight with Jet on saturday night but he’s still healing from his last fight with The Hill so… you could do it?”

“He won’t like it.” Dean said standing up.

“Don’t worry he’ll fight next weekend. He’s in such bad shape he would lose anyway.”

“You already know my opponent?”

 

Gaby went to his desk, took a key from his pocket and opened the first drawer.

“No, I’ll call you to let you know where we’ll meet and who he is as soon as I’ll know. Shark is organizing the fight this time and you know he likes surprises.”

He searched a few seconds in the drawer and turned to give Dean a wad of bills.

“1500$, it’s for your last fight. You forgot to come and take it.”

Dean took the money and put it in his jacket pocket without checking.

“That’s because I was in jail in case you forgot.”

“I know. Some random disappointed gambler tricked us. He won’t do it again.” Gaby smiled.

Dean frowned.

“Don’t make that face he’s not dead.”

“Ok I’m going.” Dean replied nodding.

“So soon?” Gaby asked surprised. “You’ve been here for 5 minutes you could at least talk to me about your new job or this Deveraux guy…”

“Gaby we’re not best friends.”

“I thought we were more than business partners at least.”

“We are but it doesn’t mean we’re friends.” He replied waving at him “I’ll wait for your call.”

He closed the door to stop Gaby from replying.

 

 

**************

 

 

On his way back he stopped to buy a six pack and a magazine. He smiled looking at all the bills in his pocket. He sat in his car and looked at the magazine closely. When he was ready he turned the car on and went to the trouble spot of the city.

Of course he paid for prostitutes, he never knew how to love a woman. He had no attention for his partners. He made them suffer most of the time and he decided they didn’t deserve this, he wasn’t worth it anyway. At least here they knew how it was and there was nothing to build. Sex was just a physical need for him whether he did it alone or with someone like today.

 

Most of the girls here knew him. Some of them didn’t even want to see him again and some of them just accepted him as he was, after all he was good looking and paid well. They knew what his life was when they saw all of his scars and how he was fighting in the Cage. In a bed he was wild too.

He stopped at Monica’s. He entered and waited for the girls to come over him. For this afternoon it was Chacha, a Porto Rican girl as obsessed as Dean was about violence. He smiled at her.

They went upstairs in a room with soft light. Dean knew that room very well. She started right after they entered, she knew waiting was not his thing. She took off her bra while he took his shirt off. She couldn’t help but was a little sad when she saw his scars everywhere on his body. Those would never disappear.

 

Dean cupped his breast without waiting more. She sank her hand in his pants and he groaned at her touch. He laid her on the bed and took her panties off while she was taking his boxer down, then she opened a condom with her teeth and smiled.

If you needed to compare their action, it was closer to rape than making love. Chacha stared at the ceiling her eyes half closed and her hands scratching at his back. She loved it, this kind of violence was ok for them both.

It was quick but good as usual, Chacha was satisfied. Dean didn’t care that much, he only needed this to relieve his body, he wasn’t searching for pleasure. Affection, tenderness or love was nothing he knew anyway. He lost that part after Sam’s death.

He left 100$ on the table, put his clothes back on and left without a word. Chacha smiled… he paid well.

 

 

***************

 

 

When he parked the Impala in the yard the night was falling. He went out of the car, took his six pack and went back to his place.

 

“You come to eat Castiel?”

He didn’t react. He was looking at Dean going away.

“Castiel?” Garth repeated. He saw him turning over. He had a bandage on his forehead where the skin was injured because of the previous hit on the window. He came to Garth and sat down and didn’t move. Garth knew he would need to feed him tonight.

Castiel was staring at the wall in front of him while eating. Garth talked to him about his day but he didn’t hope for an answer, Castiel was mute. He didn’t even hope for any reaction actually, he knew Missouri was the only lucky one deserving this favor from him. He just needed to talk about his life, his problems and his happiness and Castiel was the perfect guest: always listening, never interrupting.

 

 

Dean didn’t stay long in the dinner room that night. He ate his burger fast and left soon after. Phil had no opportunity to even talk to him a little. At another table across the room Missouri was talking to Mary. Dean thought it should’ve been a very serious conversation considering the face of the manager and the begging look in the nurse’s eyes.

 

End of chapter III

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopte to see you next sunday


	4. The sound of silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning : violence on this chapter (domestic etc...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I would like to thank you to follow this fic…  
> I know this story is sometimes hard to read but never forget this… Hope and light still there…

The birds singing, the sound of rain, snow falling down the roof in a soft noise, the wind between the tiles, the sun bringing life through its warmth, the wood beams…

The sound of his silence…

 

She was coming 2 hours a day, sometimes a bit more, sometimes a bit less to break his silent kingdom with her loud and high voice. She was not talking, she was creaking like the trapdoor she was opening every day.

One day he tried to open it too because he was curious and was violently thrown back in a terrorizing and painful shock. She electrified it just to be sure he wouldn’t flee. He was so used to be here he’s never even thought about it before. Or maybe he thought about it once or twice but forgot.

 

He looked down from the skylight to the walls. There was shadows on them, it was like the sun was drawing birds and erased them right after. He was drawing too when he was little, but she took his paper and pencils away at the same time she stopped teaching him how to read and write.

She said he wasn’t talented, she reproached him for being a huge and never-ending disappointment. When she said that the first time he looked at her very confused, he didn’t know what she meant, he didn’t know what a disappointment was. She said he was very lucky she was taking care of him because who would want to care about such a monster? She said he was ugly, deformed and stupid. She said God put him on her way to save him from hell.

God… She was always talking about God, quoting the Bible to justify her actions. Of course she forgot about the verses about love and tolerance, but he remembered he’s read it when she left the book on the shelf. She thought he was stupid and couldn’t read but he could actually read and remember a lot of things.

 

A piece of stone fell from the wall one day and he realized he could draw on the brick walls with it. Those walls which intensified both the cold and the heat, those walls which breathed in rhythm with his life. She tolerated what she called his “scribbles”. One day he drew her face, it was almost perfect but when she saw her reflection on the brick wall her face froze in anger. He gave her a present, she thanked him with a beating.

From this day he wouldn’t draw anymore.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

 

Dean finally received Gaby’s text to confirm the fight, he would wait for him at his place next Saturday 6.30 pm. The fight would take place in an empty warehouse away from midtown at 9 pm. His opponent will be Fish, Dean winced. He knew him, he’s fought with him before and he lost against this fish-man who fought so easily he seemed to swim in the cage.

He breathed and answered Gaby “See ya tomorrow.” He put his phone back in his pocket and continued cleaning Shannon’s room, one of the few patients he has met. She was sitting on her bed, swaying and hitting her back against the wall in a very annoying rhythm. Her mouth was a bit open and she was drooling , staring at an invisible point right in front of her with an empty look the whole time he was here. It was way better when the rooms were empty, at least he could forget he was working in a psychiatric hospital among crazy people and lost causes.

He was closing the supply closet’s door when he heard Mary calling him. He turned around and she smiled at him.

“Would you have a few minutes to talk please?”

“Sure Ma’am.”

She pouted but Dean still didn’t want to call her Mary. He followed her quietly.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Missouri talked to her about Castiel’s reaction but Mary thought she was seeing signs that weren’t existing. To be sure though she would check it was really something improbable because Missouri was not the kind of nurse to say things like that with no reason, especially about Castiel who was her favorite here.

 

So when she saw Dean finishing his shift this Thursday she jumped on the occasion and climbed the stairs in a rush. She went to Castiel’s room and stood next to him, he was still at the same place, at the window, he rarely moved from there except to eat or go to the bathroom. He didn’t react to her presence, it seemed he was fixing the emptiness, lost in his silence. A few seconds later, Dean opened the mansion’s front door and went out. Castiel saw him through the window and his eyes fell on him and followed him. Mary seemed more worried than happy about his reaction. Of course she was happy Castiel was finally reacting to someone outside his room than wasn’t Missouri, but she was worried because she couldn’t see what positive results she could get with these two broken souls meeting.

 

She talked about it to Missouri who was more than determined to try it.

“We still don’t know anything about Castiel. Where does he come from? Who he really is? How old is he exactly? What’s his real name? We just know he lived in hell for years. Look at him Mary, he’s almost dead. If this man can give him at least one tiny spark of life it will mean we brought a miracle.”

“You and I both know cases like him are lost causes. He suffered too much and too long, but you’re right about one thing: we don’t know anything about the hell he lived in. Do you really thing bringing all those memories to him now would bring something positive in long term for him?”

“Who’s talking about bringing bad memories?” Missouri asked looking down. “I’m convinced he remembers everything, we don’t need to bring the memories back because they’re still here with him every day and his silence is just a punishment he inflicts to himself. I’ve known a lot of Elizabeth McLeans and a lot of John Winchesters, they always survive but their victims are broken forever. They all think they deserve what happens to them and they deserve hell.”

She twisted her fingers nervously. “You’re the manager of this hospital so it’s your decision, but I’m absolutely convinced those two have to meet.”

“What if it doesn’t work Missouri?”

“What do we have to lose?”

“Nothing… but they could lose everything.”

“They already lost everything” Missouri whispered.

Mary looked at the nurse turning her cup of coffee in her hands.

“I will think about it, and fate will do the rest.”

Missouri gave her a surprised look.

“I’ll let you know about my decision soon. But for now…” she stood up “we have work to do.”

She smiled and left with her cup of coffee.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Dean sat down in front of Mary. She observed him for a while.

“Phil asked if he could take a week off. I can’t refuse because he hasn’t take a vacation for almost a whole year.”

He didn’t react.

“I know I ask a lot from you Dean, more hours, helping Mark…” she posed.

“I don’t mind. Otherwise I would’ve told you.”

“I hope so.” She smiled and got more comfy in her chair. “You wanted to take care of the East quarter didn’t you?”

She saw his face lighting up a little.

“You want me to be in charge of the East quarter during his vacation?” Dean asked.

“I wanted to ask Garth first but…”

Dean had a tiny smile and Mary frowned.

“Why are you so enthusiast about the East quarter?  You think it’s like a zoo and you’ll get to observe the animals in their cages?” She said that with a bit of anger and coldness.

Dean tensed on his chair, he was a bit vexed.

“No.” He replied quickly as cold as she sounded. He looked down holding on his anger.

“You need to tell me the truth Dean, why? Or I can’t let you work there and I’ll find someone else to do it. I can’t take any risk, for my patients and for me.”

They stayed silent a long moment.

“My brother ended up in a padded cell in St Denis.” Dean said in a shaky voice.

“St Denis?” Mary leaned on his desk. “Dean?”

He looked at her and saw a soft look on her eyes, she was full of compassion. In his own eyes there was only contained anger and distress though.

“He strangled our mother… and then he waited for my dad to come back home sitting in the living room’s chair, and he cut his throat.” He explained in a cold tone.

“After the Court process, psychiatrists declared him irresponsible… schizophrenic… bullshit! They just couldn’t understand… no one could.” He let go in a whisper. “He was transferred in St Denis where he ended up killing himself. There you know, this is the truth: he was not crazy, my brother wasn’t crazy, he wasn’t irresponsible, he was just a FREAKING VICTIM among others and everybody GAVE UP ON HIM!” he screamed.

He stood up and left the room saying “Go fuck yourselves!” and slammed the door behind him.

He exploded in the wrong place, for bad reasons and in front of the wrong person. He was enraged about this stupid uncontrolled reaction and his weakness.

The Impala left loudly and Dean disappeared for the rest of the day.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

It was silent when he came back home.

“Sam are you here?”

No answer. He looked in the hall, his schoolbag was here so he probably was back from college already. Dean hung his jacket and saw someone lying on the kitchen’s floor.

“Sam?”

He panicked and rushed into the kitchen, but Sam was not on the floor, it was his mother, her eyes bulging, her mouth hanging with a piece of tongue showing out. A strong ammoniac smell made Dean wince. He bent over her lifeless body and noticed blue marks on her neck.

“You son of a bitch… I’m going to kill you!” he growled.

He opened the kitchen drawer and took a big knife.

“WHERE ARE YOU SON OF A BITCH?” he yelled in tears.

He rushed into the living room and saw Sam sitting on the armchair with a threatening smile on his bloody face. He was holding a huge knife in his hand, the blade was red.

“Sammy…” Dean breathed out.

He followed his brother’s eyes looking right in front of him. The knife he was holding fell on the floor and he suddenly puked.

There he was, sitting against the television, his father’s throat was cut, full of blood. The cut was so deep his head was hanging and threatened to fall off his body. His eyes were frozen in terror, the same terror the boys had in their eyes when they were with their father.

Dean took his head in his hand and cried.

“Oh Sammy what did you do?”

 

He came closer to him, he still had this scary smile on his face.

“Cut the pig’s throat… Strangled the sow.”

Then he straightened on his chair and stared at his brother.

“Tiger won.” Sam gave him a deep and full of happiness smile.

Dean took the knife from his hand and put it on the floor. Sam didn’t resist, he was gone already. Dean took his face between his hands, put it in his shoulder and cried holding him tight.

“Sammy… my Sammy… forgive me…please forgive me…”

 

Sam was 17, he died 2 years later after his last suicide attempt. Dean tried to transfer him to another place to help him feel better but what could a young man do in front of the resistance of justice?

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

 

Mary was reading a case when someone knocked on the door.

“Yes, come in.”

Dean appeared with a sad and tired face.

“Dean…” She stood up worried but smiling at him. She would have hugged him but she knew it wasn’t appropriate.

“If you still want me to be in charge of the East quarter… I’m in. You just have to change my shifts so I can still clean the West quarter too.” His voice was deep.

“Suzanne actually offered her help for next week, she will be in charge of the West quarter but won’t be able to help on Wednesday as it’s her free day. She’s currently in training. This is why I hired you in the first place, you had to replace her for 6 months till her training’s done.”

“So when do I start?”

“Next Tuesday. Phil will explain to you what the job consists of next Monday. You’ll work with him that day.”

He nodded and was about to leave when she said “Dean I… I wanted to apologize for my previous behavior.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry too. We’re good.”

Then he went out without giving her the time to answer.

She sat back and wondered if it wasn’t a mistake, but Missouri was right about something: they’ve already lost everything. Who knew what fate would bring? She tried to convince herself it was destiny.

“Alea jacta est…”

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

When Missouri entered his room he wasn’t standing at the window as he always was. She looked at his bed, the cover was gone so she knew. She turned around the bed and saw him sleeping on the floor. He did that quite a few times, curled up, showing a scar at the bottom of his back. He was holding the cover tight.

Missouri leaned her back against the window and observed him. Was he still a boy? Was he a man? Has he ever been a child?

“How can someone end up like that? Human being will always surprise me pushing cruelty further and further. My poor Castiel… God only knows how much you suffered.” She exhaled looking at the ceiling.

“In moments like this I wonder if he really exists. How can he let this happen? How many Castiels are suffering in total indifference? How many will end up here? How many will die in silence? How many more will I have to take care about?”

She stepped forward. “This is a hopeless quest, but I’ll never give up. More people need to be saved.”

She felt observed. Garth was looking at her, he smiled tenderly.

“Don’t worry I’ll watch over him.”

“I know. See you on Monday Garth.”

“See ya Missouri.”

Missouri looked at him one last time and closed the door on his nightmare as she left.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

“Look at that!” she pointed her chubby belly. “This is your fault, YOUR FAULT!”

He didn’t understand what she was saying. She screamed for a few minutes. He was curled up against the wall.

“You’ll pay for that! I’ll get rid of this abomination and then it will be your turn.”

At least she wasn’t hitting this time.

 

She came back two days later with a pale face.

“No man will want me from now on!” she stepped forward. He couldn’t stand up he was too weak so he stared at her.

“But you love me right?” she kneeled next to him. “My beautiful angel… you love me right?”

She caressed his hair and he tensed. She ran her finger down his chest, he was begging her to stop with his eyes.

“You’re beautiful… more beautiful than in my dreams.”

She slid her hand in his pants smiling at him.

“You will love me forever, angel… forever.”

She closed her eyes. On that day, pleasure won over reason.

 

His desire woke him up and he looked panicked under his cover, searching for her. He hid further in his bed covering his face with his blanket.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Dean was early. He parked in front of the building but stayed in his car. He was nervous, his hands were shaking full of adrenaline.  He stared at his mirror view and get lost. A knock on the window woke him up from his thoughts, Gaby was here in a nice suit. Dean opened the window.

“Why don’t you come in?”

“I just got here.”

“Follow me it won’t be long. About 20 minutes.”

“Okay.” Dean agreed.

“I’ll take my BMW tonight.”

Dean followed him and saw Bibi waving at him from the walkway. He didn’t answer.

On his way Dean surprised himself thinking about next Monday. Why did he want to do it so bad? She was right. He didn’t lie when he talked about Sam but it wasn’t related to his work at the mansion. He simply didn’t know why, that was it. He was probably just curious or had a sick interest in doing it.

He was working in a place full of crazy people at least he could share their universe. What healthy person would agree to be locked in a cage to fight after all? He didn’t care about money he just wanted to find a meaning to his pain eating him from the inside, fighting it out and share this burden with his opponents.

Gaby’s car parked on a huge parking lot. It would be six fights tonight, Dean would be part of the second one. There was a bodyguard at the entrance checking invitations as they were very private events. He waved at Gaby when he recognized him, then he greeted Dean who did greet him back.

 

The warehouse has been rearranged, dozens of guests were already here, they invited 100 guests tonight. The Cage was in the center, full of lights, with sawdust on the floor to soften the shocks and to absorb blood. There was an icecream truck turned into a bar with music next to it.

Dean felt his muscles tensing, he saw “The Killer” near the front door. He was a tremendous fighter, a mountain of muscles, a real wall. He only lost 2 times in his career.

Gaby greeted Shark and thanked him for the organization but Dean wasn’t listening to them, he was staring at the cage. He closed his eyes and heard the shouts of the crowd like he was back in antic Rome.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump.

“Wow calm down Rage it’s just me!”

“I already told you not to do this anymore Black J., one day it will end up badly.”

The big black guy laughed.

“So what about your little jail vacation?”

“Very relaxing.” Dean joked. “Who are you fighting with?”

“Guess…” He said nodding at The Killer.

“Oh crap.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll destroy him.” Black J. said pointing at his biceps.

“If you say so…”

Gaby waved at him.

“I gotta go prepare” Dean said.

“Good luck”

“You too.”

 

 

Sitting on a chair, Dean was looking at Gaby bandaging his hands. He gave him instructions but he wasn’t listening, he was staring at the curtain separating him from the crowd. He heard them scream to support Black J., and then a very loud disappointing shout. Dean figured Black J. lost the fight.

“And as usual you haven’t heard a single thing I’ve said. You will do whatever you want again.”

“Gaby this is not my first fight.” Dean sighed.

“Yeah yeah I know… Excuse me for worrying uh” Gaby pouted.

“You’re not worrying for me Gab, you’re worrying for your money.”

“Yeah well… it’s the same. Don’t play with words.”

He patted his shoulder, it was time to go. Dean took his red and black head protection. He loved that sensation to finally be alive, to exist even if it was through a new fight. He entered the Cage barefoot, wearing black shorts, and placed his teeth protections.

 

Fish, his small but vivacious Asian opponent, entered later under the crowd’s shouts. He was wearing Thaï-boxing clothes even if he was from Vietnam. Shark introduced them, and there were more shouts and more dollar bills rising in the crowd. A white clothed man was taking bets. At the first hit he would stop. Dean felt Gaby’s look on him, he was sitting in the front row with Bibi at his side, she was very excited. She loved those fights so much she was attending almost every time, even the ones without Gaby’s fighters.

 

The music stopped, only a few guest’s screams resonated. No observation round.

Fish made the first move. Dean avoided his foot and hit his opponent’s back which made him fall on his knees. Dean bent over to hit him on his neck but the young Asian guy got up using his hands before he could do anything else. He threw both his feet in Dean’s chest forcing him to step back exhaling. Fish punched him right in his face, Dean answered with his foot hitting his leg violently. Fish fell but managed to punch him again, this time on his neck. Dean flew back hitting his head on the cage bars, making the crowd scream even more.

Compared to the previous fight, this one was less violent but fast. The way they fought was almost elegant. After ten minutes, Fish’s nose was bleeding and so was Dean’s eyebrow, despite their protections.

 

One more punch in the head and Fish swayed. Dean took this opportunity to rush to his legs, lift him and throw him on his back to the floor with rage. The shock was so violent it took Fish’s breath away. Dean rode him and started to punch. Fish tried to escape and to hit his ribs but Dean wasn’t Dean anymore… He was Rage. He was uncontrollably punching Fish again and again, supported by the crowd’s shouts. After a while Fish wasn’t moving anymore but Dean was still punching.

He heard a voice “Rage stop! You won! Dude calm down!” and someone caught his arms to stop him from hitting. He turned around ready to beat the one who did that but he stopped when he saw it was Shark.

“It’s over man, you won. Relax.”

Shark took his hand and lifted it proudly in the air.

“Here is the winner! RAAAAAAAAAAGGEEEE!!!”

The crowd screamed and Rage was gone. Dean was back, watching the doctor checking for Fish who was now moving weakly. Dean breathed deeply.

He turned around and crossed Gaby’s content look.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

He came back early Sunday morning. It was his free day and he was dreaming about sleeping. All his muscles and his injured eyebrow were sore. He touched his bandage wincing.

“Shit!”

When he looked up he saw Mark.

“You ran into a bus?”

“No, a rickshaw.” Dean joked.

Mark was confused and Dean walked by with a smile on his face.

“You want breakfast? I’ve made French toasts.”

“Give me five minutes.” Dean said entering his room.

He opened his nightstand drawer, took the bills out of his pocket and threw them in it. He stood still looking at the photo of Sam and him in the drawer. He must’ve been 10 at that time, Sam was almost 8.

He closed the drawer brutally and winced. He lifted his shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. He saw he had a contusion on his right side. He touched it, it was sore but nothing seemed to be broken. One more pain considering his broken rib was not healed yet. He went out through the yard to go to the refectory.

 

 

Castiel knocked his forehead on the window, bringing blood under his bandage and making the window all dirty.

“Good morning Castiel.” Mary greeted.

She stepped forward and observed him for a while. She sighed.

“Armand, would you please change his bandage?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.”

He sighed… He would need a lot of patience today.

 

 

End of chapter IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope to see you next sunday


	5. Just in a reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU...Dean is arrested for underground fighting. Haunted by the ghosts of his tortured childhood, he runs away. But an attorney will give him one last chance. A job in St Gerry hall, a psychiatric hospital. He'll meet a broken man along the way, Castiel, found in his attic after 30 years of abuser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING : Domestic violence and rape.

It was cold and snowy since the beginning of the day. A thick layer of snow was making them walking slower. Dean was holding his schoolbag and the one of his brother who was shivering in his coat. He had bulged eyes because he’s been sick for a few days and Dean was really worried. He looked in the bathroom closet the day before to find some medication and he found only paracetamol … better than nothing. He couldn’t hope more from his parents anyway so he had to take care of his brother himself. He gave him the medication and the fever stopped for the night, but in the morning it was back already.

“You have to be brave and get up Sammy, I’ll take you to the school nurses so they can give you something to get better.” He said kneeling next to him and caressing his hair to help him feel better, then he kissed him on his warm forehead.

John followed Dean’s move on his brother’s face, he looked at his fingers playing with his hair. Too busy being worried for Sam, Dean didn’t hear his dad entering the room. He had no time to react and felt his father’s hand catching his shirt’s collar. He tried to get away from him but his collar almost strangled him.

John dragged him around like he was a potatoes bag. He tried to get up but his dad was too strong for him. He opened the bedroom’s door and threw Dean on the bed. His eyes had a scary color all of a sudden, and Dean was scared because he never saw this look before. John caught his foot and pulled him over, Dean screamed. Sam was too weak to get up, and his mom crashed in the sofa too drunk to wake up.

John straddled him to stop him from moving, he was literally stuck under his father’s weight looking at him with envy. He punched him with all his strength, John caught his hands and crashed his arms on the bed.

“As I see you like to caress little boys?” he spited in his face. Dean looked away, panicked.

“He’s sick, he needs me!”

“I’m sick too… so I need you too.” John replied still holding his son’s fists with one hand. He stepped back a little and Dean felt almost naked under his look.

“Dad…please no…dad…” and he started crying.

Dean never called his father like that, he hoped those words would wake him up, he hoped this nightmare would stop.

“Be nice with your daddy.” He said starting to caress his crotch. Dean was begging him with his look, between the tears.

“Dad…”

“Daddy will take care of you” he whispered in his ear.

Dean closed his eyes, he was nauseous when he felt his penis reacting to his dad’s hands.

“See? I’m a good father. Admit you like it.”

His breath smelt terrible and Dean wanted to throw up. He felt his dad’s hand opening his pants, he tried to get away again with all his strength, but even drunk his father was too strong for him to run away.

He saw his eyes when he looked at his penis: “like father like son” John said caressing him again.

He would never forget those words, he graved them in his memory forever. He stopped moving, stopped crying, and he came without feeling any pleasure.

His very first sexual experience was a rape… his own father raped him just like that.

 

“Your turn” John said in Dean’s ear.

Dean screamed hoping his mother would wake up, but only Sam was awake, too sick to move, curled up under his blanket hearing his brother calling for help.

“Please dad no!” he pleaded struggling.

“Ok you choose: it’s you or Sam.”

Dean froze, out of breath. John smiled opening his pants, his eyes were shining with alcohol and desire. Dean cried quietly staring at the ceiling. He felt his dad’s penis on his chest and started to shake, closing his eyes hard. John caught his hand and put it on his erection.

“Show me how much you love me!”

He wanted to throw up.

“Think about Sam…”

He had no choice, he started to rub clumsily. He was sobbing but he heard his father moaning, and then he collapsed on the bed next to Dean after a weird hitting noise.

Sam was standing here with his baseball bat in his hand, shaky and in tears. He lifted the bat ready to hit a second time but Dean raised his hand to stop it. Sam let it go, collapsed in his brother’s arms and they stayed like this for a while.

 

Dean finally looked up and met his mother’s eyes. Leaning against the door, she was staring at the bed and at John with his pants down. She turned to Dean who was pulling his pants up with his eyes all red. He left the room with his brother and Karen heard him throw up in the bathroom.

 

When they came back from school that afternoon, Karen was waiting for them with cases and bags.

“Go get your stuffs, we’re leaving.”

Dean felt Sam’s hand leaving his and he ran upstairs. Dean stood there in front of his mother, letting his schoolbag fall on the floor.

“Mom…”

She stepped forward and put her hand on his cheek.

“He will never touch you again. Never. I promise.”

Dean closed his eyes feeling the softness of her hand, he let himself drown in this beautiful lie.

 

 

They left and went to one of their mom’s coworker. Their dad came back the day after to apologize. Two days after, without even opening their bags, Karen took them back to their house and to their father, but even if sometimes he was still looking at Dean the same dirty way, the rape of January stayed the one and only. One more indelible mark graved in his mind and in his body.

They day after, Dean stole a knife in a local shop: He would never let that happen again. He gave the knife up only when their parents died.

John was beating them less and less as they were growing up and became more confident. The first time Dean punched his father he collapsed and passed out. He was 15 and this was the end of the beatings. The insults and the blaming never stopped though.

John turned his anger to their mother then. Dean never defended her, Sam neither. She chose her husband over her sons. They would never forgive her for that.

It was only Dean and Sam, or Sam and Dean… two young men against the world.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

 

Phil typed the access code the East quarter’s main door. Dean noted the 6 numbers and tried to remember them. Phil pushed the door and said “Let’s go!”

He was pushing the supply cart. They both entered and the door closed behind them.

“Don’t forget to always check if the door is locked.” He said as he did so.

They crossed the hallway and arrived in front of another gate.

“On your right is the occupational therapist office, and on your left the nurses office.”

Phil searched for a key hanging on his belt.

“This key unlocks this gate, you can’t go wrong it’s the biggest one.” He turned the key two times in the lock and pushed the gate. Dean entered and he closed it right behind him. They were in a long corridor leading to a lot of doors.

“How many rooms are there?” asked Dean surprised.

“About fifty but you have only 35 to clean. The other ones are in the second part, in a second corridor, after one more gate...” He pointed “Authorized personnel only.”

Contrary to the West quarter there was absolutely no ornament in the corridor. The walls were white and the doors were light green. From where he stood Dean could see tiny windows on each door.

“You’ll need an access code for each door.” Phil handed a note pad to Dean. He wrote each name and each code in front of each room number.

“Don’t lose it” he winked.

Dean stayed quiet.

“You’ll figure it’s not always that quiet. They scream most of the time, I guess we’re just lucky today”. He walked to the first door.

“First thing you have to check…” he pointed at the first page of his notepad “the letter in front of each name.”

“What?”

“If there is an “X” you enter ONLY if the patient’s not here. You’ll know that if you ask Garth or Armand for the planning each morning, so you’ll know where they are at what time and for how long.

Dean looked at the tiny window.

“Room 23… you’ll notice there is absolutely no logical order for the rooms… ok we don’t really care about that but still… so?” he nodded at the note pad.

“Hum… 23… Felicia… A.” Dean read.

“A” means you can go without worrying about anything. Poor Felicia is always tied when she’s alone or she’d rip her own skin. They try not to give medication too much, they don’t like that here.”

Dean looked at the window.

“You always have to look and check everything is ok in there before you step in. Always.” Phil insisted “you can be very surprised about what you’ll find sometimes so you better be careful.”

He pointed at a small box with a red light next to the door. Dean typed the access code and the light turned green.

“In case of emergency there is a safety system which opens all the rooms at the same time from the front desk. Just a precaution.”

 

Dean went to a few rooms with Phil who introduced him to each patient they met, then he showed him the planning.

“You’ll have to plan your work using this. Each room must be cleaned at 2 or 3 pm, boss’ orders.”

“What time you start?”

“8 am after the first breakfast shift. You can pause but you don’t always have time, it depends how dirty the rooms are.” He rolled his eyes “especially the bathrooms.”

“Well it’s not so much different from the West quarter after all. I don’t understand why we can’t both do this and switch sometimes.”

“You only saw the first rooms… the most docile patients. Wait for the rest before judging, and as I’ve said, they are particularly quiet today. I can guaranty some days they are unbearable.” Phil looked at his watch, they were late.

Next room was indeed less pleasant.

“This is the worst I’m warning you. Edward’s favorite game is to draw with his poop on the walls. You can imagine how appetizing it is.” Phil joked.

“Really smart…” Dean smiled.

 

Room 19… He looked inside through the window and saw he wasn’t here, so they entered.

“Oh God…” Dean said raising his hands to his face.

“Nice perfume right?” Phil smiled patting Dean’s shoulder to support him.

“There is no way to bring some fresh air in here?” Dean asked waving.

“Air conditioned and door opened! You can’t open the windows.”

“Holy shit!... no pun intended” Dean said looking at the walls painted with poop.

“And today is not so bad…” Phil said.

“Can’t they tie him?”

“He would shit on him so… poop on the walls or on him… they chose.”

“Nice for us!”

“Yeah you’re here just for one week don’t complain. I have this every day! You understand me better now?”

“Well I had shit in West quarter too…but it wasn’t such a master piece!” Dean put his gloves on and he started laughing.

Castiel jumped a little when he heard that sound. He’s heard it before, a few months ago. He kept looking at the sky but he didn’t stop listening. He liked that soft sound. He tilted his head… Has he ever done this too before?

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

She climbed the ladder and fell her face on the floor because of her dress at the top of it.

He felt a strange sensation in his gut and burst out laughing. He stopped when he saw the look on her face.

“You find this funny?” she asked angrily.

“I’m going to cure you from laughing because of people’s bad luck!”

He stepped back and curled up against the wall looking at the floor.

“Look at me!”

She stepped forward hitting the whip on her leg in rhythm. It was her new favorite toy.

“Look at me!” she yelled and he had to look at her. “Was it a good laugh? It felt good?”

He shook his head, he was scared and he was staring at the whip.

“It won’t be long…”

It was one of the rare times she whipped on his face. He felt his eyebrow’s skin ripping. Blood fell down to his eye so he couldn’t see so well. He wanted to touch it but she whipped on his forearm. Each move he made she hit him. It was the one and only time of his life he ever laughed. The scar on his eyebrow would forever be the mark of his laughter.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Phil paused in front of room 14.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

He looked inside and saw him standing at the window barefoot in his white pajamas. Dean looked at his notepad.

“Castiel.” Dean frowned.

“The attic boy” Phil added.

“I’ve heard of that story.”

“Yeah it was in the news a few months ago.”

Dean looked at Phil “What? It’s him?” he asked surprised. He looked inside one more time.

“But he’s not a boy!”

“He’s not an adult either.” Phil added.

“What’s his story?” Dean asked leaning against the wall and staring at Phil.

“We don’t really know the details. Some kids found him when they entered his abandoned house to play around. He was so skinny it’s a miracle he survived. The house’s owner died and she had no family so nobody searched the house after she died.”

“How is that even possible? You can’t keep someone locked for so long without anybody to notice!”

Well… after all… people closed their eyes around him to not see he and his brother’s pain though it was right in front of them. Dean looked at him a long time by the window again.

“So what’s his problem?”

“As I told you we don’t really know. He doesn’t talk, he doesn’t show any emotion except fear sometimes, he spends his days looking outside the window, he can’t bare people’s contact. It took weeks to finally be able to shave him and they had to be very quiet or he would freak out.”

“Freak out?” Dean asked looking at Phil.

“He curled up against the wall and hit everyone. He can be strong when he wants even if he looks weak.”

“Strength of distress.” Dean whispered.

“What?”

“Nothing. Ok let’s do this. This room is making me uncomfortable so the soonest it’ll be done the better I’ll feel.”

“He’s clean it won’t be long.”

“You’re talking like he’s a dog Phil.”

“That’s not what I meant though.” He replied nodding for him to type the code. “We talk and talk but we still have ten rooms to clean!”

 

 

“Hello Castiel.” Phil always greeted patients and said to Dean the manager ordered it, just to remember they were human beings and not numbers on a notepad.

“This is Dean, he will clean your room this week.”

No reaction.

“Dean!” Phil insisted.

“Yeah hum… Hi Cas.” Dean let out casually.

“Cas?” Phil noticed.

“Yeah that or something else… He doesn’t care anyway.”

He didn’t look at him and stayed quiet although in every other room he asked Phil tons of questions about the patients. Phil observed him, he was working very fast.

“Dean is everything ok? Is he making you that uncomfortable?” Phil asked looking at Castiel who still hasn’t move from the window.

“Done!” Dean finally said. “Let’s go.”

“Man!” Phil let out putting his things away. He pushed the cart out of the room.

“You forgot your rag on the table.”

“Damn it!” Dean grumbled.

He quickly took it back and glanced at the window. Castiel was looking at him through the reflection. Dean read a nameless distress in his eyes and felt sick. Castiel was staring now.

Phil observed the scene, they were both looking at each other in the reflection. Castiel was finally sharing something with somebody else. Missouri was right. Phil smiled, he would really enjoy his free week!

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Mary asked him to come in her office. Missouri was here, standing nervously behind her desk.

“Sit down Phil.”

He looked at them a bit worried. She opened some file.

“You know you still have a vacation to take?”

“Yes I wanted to take it two months ago but it turned out I couldn’t.”

He heard Missouri sigh.

“What is going on here?” Phil asked curious.

“What about next week?” Missouri suddenly asked.

Mary turned around and stared at her.

“What the hell?” Phil was now very uncomfortable.

“I’m going to be honest with you Phil” she sighed “Missouri would like… Castiel and Dean to meet each other.” She exhaled and leaned in her chair.

Phil stared at her.

“Here it is.” Mary said turning to Missouri “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“I didn’t say it was.” Phil replied.

“Ah!” Missouri let out crossing her arms.

“And should I ask why?” Phil asked.

“Well because she is absolutely sure Dean is making Castiel react.” Mary answered coldly.

“You saw it yourself!” Missouri defended. Mary scowled.

“Is that true?” Phil asked surprised.

“Yes.” Missouri confirmed. “But Mary wants fate to do the rest.” She added moving her hands.

“So am I fate now?” Phil joked.

“Well… your vacation is.” Missouri replied.

“Stop it!” Mary said taking her head in her hands. “Do you realize that what is happening here is against all our profession’s principles? We have rules to follow even if for some people here it seems to be something very hard to do. We can’t play with people’s life or emotions.”

“But if it can let Castiel out of his silence…” Missouri dared.

“Missouri… do you realize what you’re saying? Dean or not Dean there will be no miracle!”

“Your lack of faith is impressive Mary. I never said he would walk on water like Jesus-Christ I know that! But if he can open up a little…” Missouri turned around the desk “we won’t lose anything trying.” She pouted. “I’ve been a nurse for 35 years you could at least give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“You care about him too much Missouri just be careful.”

“Careful about what?”

Phil was observing them debating in front of him, half curious and amused.

“What are you really hoping for?”

They jumped remembering he was here.

“Missouri hoped Castiel will have more reactions after meeting this man.”

“… as he already reacted when he saw him by the window.” Missouri added with a proud smile on her face.

“And if it really works what will happen next?”

“Yes Missouri, you and your huge experience tell us what we’ll do next as Dean has no degree to play Sigmund Freud!”

“We’ll let fate decide. Dean’s not alone we’re here too!”

“It’s a big risk.”

“It’s no risk at all, it’s just a cleaner sympathizing with a patient, how is that bad? It wouldn’t be the first time anyway. Outside people have already been part of healing process. I’ll be satisfied even with a simple smile from Castiel.” She winked.

Mary sighed “after all… it’s only for a week.”

“Do you care if I want to take that vacation or not?” Phil asked shyly twisting his fingers.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

“Dean”

He jumped. He didn’t know how much time they stayed here looking at each other but when he got out of the room and looked back inside he knew something has changed in him. He saw in Castiel’s eyes the same pain he’s seen in Sam’s eyes, or even in his own eyes when he was looking in a mirror. The look of people who lived the same hell but had no idea how to share it.

“See you tomorrow Cas…” he closed the door.

 

Dean had no interest for the last rooms and the last patients after that. He greeted them but he was sure he wouldn’t even remember them the next day. Phil let him in his thoughts. He explained to him the different cases and the things he had to be careful about. Dean listened but didn’t answer. He stayed in room 14.

They finished later than usual. Dean was very quiet. After they were done he couldn’t resist looking at the door of room 14 on their way back. Phil noticed but didn’t say anything. Dean would’ve denied it anyway. He offered him a coffee but Dean refused saying he was too tired.

 

“Have fun and get back in good shape!” Dean said to Phil in a fake happy voice.

Phil played along “Good luck for tomorrow! Watch out for the poop!”

Dean smiled “you brat!”

He crossed the yard and this time looked up searching for the third floor. He didn’t see him but he felt he was here. Castiel put his forehead in the window.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Someone knocked.

“Come in!”

Phil stepped in the office.

“No need to wait for a whole week, fate strikes fast.”

“What do you mean?” Mary asked fearing the answer.

“Love at first sight!” he joked.

“Phil!” Mary raised her voice.

“Missouri was right, they were made to meet.”

“Alright… let’s hope it won’t lead to something bad.”

“I think it’s a good thing for both of them.”

“A good thing?”

“They’re both broken inside, it would be great if they could fix each other.”

“Nice perspective.” She replied nodding but still worried.

“Alright I’m going. See you next Monday .Call me if you need anything.”

“ Thank you Phil.”

“It’s ok. Bye.” And he left.

Mary pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and sighed. What has she done? She usually was so clever and careful… Missouri was way too persuasive…

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

 

Dean took his phone, hesitated a moment but finally dialed his number. It was the voicemail.

“Mr. Deveraux it’s Dean Winchester. I wanted to talk to you but it’s ok… I just want you to know everything is fine here and uh… thank you…for believing in me again.” He paused “…bye!”

He hung up. He couldn’t just ask an attorney some details about a patient just because they shared a look, it was dumb. Actually this whole story was dumb.

 

He needed to think about something else. He went out of his room with his magazine and locked in the bathroom. Hot water felt good, like a caress on his skin. He closed his eyes focusing on his magazine’s pictures.

When he led his hand on his erection he suddenly saw his face… lying next to him…his look… his breath… his voice…

“Daddy will take care of you…”

He came in a raging voice falling in tears on the shower’s floor. He curled up letting water purifying him and taking his pain away.

 

 

 

End of chapter V

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never forget that the kind of abuses are a reality not a fiction
> 
> next chapter sunday


	6. Jimmy Hendrix's way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning : domestical violence and rape

The attic wasn’t isolated, the roof was too high and the room too big to keep the heat of the fire place which was placed in the center. It was too cold in winter and too hot in summer. He only liked spring and autumn because the temperature was more pleasant. He was alone in his prison, afraid to live and afraid to survive.  
Winter was full of pain, it was too cold and he felt humidity inside his body reaching his bones and it was never leaving. His hands and feet were always frozen. A sweater and some socks weren’t enough to keep the poor warmth of his weak body.  
He was literally frozen. He touched his face and saw sweat on his fingers. He had trouble breathing and he was coughing a lot, so much he couldn’t sleep anymore. He never slept a lot but this was even worse.

 

She was here watching him and he felt a mix of doubt and fear in her eyes. He’s been sick for weeks and nothing she gave him seemed to make him feel better. She was losing him. He didn’t want to get better at all, he was holding to the sickness very tight like it was a new hope for him: the hope to fall asleep and never wake up again.  
He remembered this time very well because it was the only time she put her hands on him with no intention to hurt. No beating, no painful caress, just tenderness.  
“You have to get better… God doesn’t want you to let go, angel.”  
She pulled the lock of hair sticking on his forehead away and he shivered because of her touch, and then she kissed him.  
“I won’t let him take you away from me.” She insisted on the last word.  
Me… so it wasn’t about him, it was all about her and her broken toy, her flesh doll losing its life. He felt it because of the words she said to him. It was not his pain that pushed her to act with such tenderness, it was just fear to lose something she owned.  
He learnt how to read in her silence, in her looks and in her moves. He was feeling her emotions like she was a mirror reflecting his opposite.  
She stood up all of a sudden and smiled for no reason… one of her weird smile.  
“No question!” she affirmed. “He’s mine!” she screamed looking at the skylight. She seemed to directly talk to that God she adored so much.

 

She came back a few hours later with that strange quiet man, another torturer who was following her like he was her shadow. He bent over the bed and lifted him with no caution, throwing him on his shoulder as easy as it’d be a bag full of feathers. He was so thin after all…  
He was scared. If the strange man had put him on the floor he would’ve crawled to his bed even with no strength…  
A corridor… and then she opened the door of a small colorful room. The man threw him on the bed and with a nod she made him go out.  
She took clean pajamas and changed him as he was too weak to do it himself. He didn’t complain, he became a puppet between her hands.  
He observed every details of the room, trying to remember every smell and to keep every inch in mind. The sheets smelt very good, not like his mattress which smelt like dirt and pain. He closed his eyes tight when she changed her pants but nothing happened. He was still cold, his breath was shorter and shorter. Breathing was so painful… moving became so impossible!  
She left the room. He would not cause any problem, he just couldn’t do anything and the man was watching the door.  
He didn’t know how much time she left, he had no time notion except for the sun. He was still cold but he was relaxed. This room would be a little piece of heaven he would bring back to his hell. She came back with another pale and quiet man. He looked old and had the same look she always had, the same indifference.

“He’s been like that for several days, Doctor. I gave him what you’ve prescribed but nothing seems to work.”  
The doctor took a chair and sat next to him. He didn’t react, he still couldn’t anyway. He let the doctor examine him even if he was terrorized by his tools, the way he touched him and even his look. If death had a face, it would be him.  
He lifted his shirt and frowned looking at her with a suspicious look.  
“My sister was beating him, she abandoned him here and I took care of him.”  
Her sister? … Her protection? …  
He desperately tried to find the doctor’s eyes but he would never even look at him, he would never talk to him either. He was only talking to her with complete disregard.  
So it was true… He was nothing… his existence had no meaning except for pain. A new lock was keeping him in his attic. His stared at nothing, the room wasn’t even here anymore.  
He looked at the window: a bird seemed to look at him. It just saved his soul when it was about to leave forever. The crow flew and he felt a sudden pain in his arm. He turned his head and saw that the old man had put a needle in it. The liquid flowing under his skin burnt him and he managed to moan to express his pain.  
“It’s for your own good, angel.” She faked still looking at the doctor and hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. Why would he anyway? He had the same heartless look on his face. He was just one more sick person to cure. It didn’t matter he was covered with scars and wasn’t speaking anymore.

The doctor stood up.  
“To be efficient, you should take him to the hospital. It’s probably a chronic bronchitis.”  
“Chronic? What does that mean?”  
“It means he probably had severe lung infections before but they were not treated properly and his lungs are now very weakened. Each cold or infection could make him sick again, making him weaker and weaker each time.”  
“I can’t afford to take him to the hospital.” She whined “My husband left me with tons of debts and I have no health insurance anymore.” She said with her eyes wet.  
He sighed turning to the bed. “I’ll prescribe him something. Keep him warm and make him eat well and if in two days it’s not better you’ll really need to take him to the hospital or his life will be severely threatened.”  
She brought her hand to her face faking distress “Oh my God!”  
The doctor put his hand on her arm as a sign of comfort. “He’s tough don’t worry, he’ll get through this.”  
They left the room leaving him alone. They talked about him ignoring him, no look, no gesture but he was right next to them suffering!  
He coughed and felt like an iron taste in his mouth… he was spiting blood.

He stayed in this room only a few days, in the heat of the sheets he never left only to go to the bathroom, supported by this man who never looked at him and never talked to him without her to order it. She cured him without any attention, forcing him to swallow small white bitter pills each morning. Those pills were making him nauseous and dizzy.  
The fever left, he coughed less and he was not spiting blood anymore. Those ten days would be the only days he would spend out of his attic kingdom. The quiet man brought him back in the eleventh day, on his bed with a cover. There were used sweaters on the table.  
He felt sick again the following years but he would never leave his attic again.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Missouri gave him his glass and put a small white pill on the table. He had to take it once a day but always refused to. She had to be very clever to trick him so he would actually swallow it without him to notice. She usually stood up sighing and crushed it in a glass of water, this was the only way he would take medication. She so wanted him to cooperate, it would mean he trusted her. But he never had. He wasn’t even looking at her.  
She remembered he violently attacked Garth when he tried to vaccinate him against tetanus. She never insisted again, more because she was scared he would hurt himself. Castiel never hurt her, he actually would never hurt anyone intentionally, he was flying from this monster haunting him. He was violent only when he was scared, fear was the only emotion he could express.

Castiel stood up and went to his window as usual. Each time he did this Missouri couldn’t help being a little sad. Today she wouldn’t receive anything from him, not even a single look, just his silence. For 4 months there had been no evolution, he just accepted their presence… at least it was a tiny victory. At least he found the strength to live which was a miracle for such a broken man.  
She sighed and stood up “It a nice day today, don’t you want to go out?”  
He knocked his forehead on the window.  
“Ok Castiel calm down I get it: you want to stay here. Alright it’s your choice. See you tonight then.” She said in a soft voice.  
He stopped.  
He was understanding and feeling everything and she knew it. He was just locked in his own prison and refused to let it go but he was not completely impervious to the world around him anyway. He was just protecting himself from what he lived and what he didn’t want to live anymore because he knew it would destroy the few strength he finally found.  
She couldn’t blame him but couldn’t stop hoping for someone to enter his prison and help him getting out or at least share it.  
Why not breaking those walls?

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean woke up wincing, his whole body was sore from his last fighting and from his previous too long shower. He sat on the side of his bed and rubbed his face insisting on his eyes. He put some pants, sneakers and T-shirt on and quickly brushed his teeth, then he closed the door to his night full of nightmare.  
He ate his breakfast quietly and alone. Garth walked by him with his plate and asked: “First day solo, is everything ok?”  
Dean looked at him “Yeah it should be ok, Phil told me everything I had to know.”  
“Come to find me if you need anything.”  
“You wanna help me carrying my duster?”  
Garth smiled “If it can help… well no kidding, sometimes patients can have strange reactions especially in this area and it can be confusing when you’re not used to it.”  
He put his plate on the table and searched his pants pocket.  
“You won’t always know how to react when they have a panic attack or something… don’t try anything stupid, there is no logic in them, at least not the same we have… just call a nurse or a caretaker it’s our job. Do your job and we’ll do our. No offense but it’s not kindergarten here.”  
Dean nodded confirming he got the message without being offended. Garth gave him a piece of paper.  
“This is today’s planning.”  
“Thank you.” Dean smiled.  
“You’re welcome. I’ll give it to you each morning at breakfast and I’ll tell Armand to do the same when I’m not here.  
Dean smiled again.  
“Have a good breakfast and don’t forget my advice.” He said going away.  
He waved at him and Dean did the same finishing his cup of coffee.  
He looked at the planning and the first thing he was surprised to search for was room 14 schedule. He realized it when his look was only searching for the name of Castiel. He didn’t find it which meant he would be in his room all the time. He shook his head.  
“What’s wrong with me?”  
He internally slapped himself and finished his breakfast.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He went to the first floor’s nurse office to get his keys and checked he hasn’t forgotten the precious notepad. He pushed his supply cart with shaky legs and waited for the elevator with a growing apprehension. After all he heard by Garth and Phil he was a little more worried he’d want to.  
Dean never had social skills so he couldn’t imagine what would happen in company of a crazy or sick person in distress. He probably wouldn’t know what to do. He looked at the planning again: he decided to clean the rooms when the patients would not be here if possible, it was the best thing to do. He breathed deeply when the third floor’s gate opened.

First day and first statement: Phil was right, they were screaming already, he could hear them from the corridor. They were moaning or yelling insults through the doors. Dean shivered but typed the six numbers to open the gate.  
He walked straight without looking at the nurses’ office or Leyla Fredges office so he didn’t see Missouri closing her eyes and starting to pray God for one last chance.  
Dean started with the last rooms of the area. He couldn’t look inside the rooms of screaming patients. Tomorrow he would certainly ask if he could use his MP3 player when he worked. He never liked this modern thing, he was sort of old school on some points, he preferred the old crackling radio cassette player of his Impala, but it would be better than listening to the shouts and moans. It was way too creepy!  
He looked at the planning again: room 10, empty. The patient was in the day room with four others. Of course he would have to clean the day room too. He didn’t go with Phil the day before because they were late, Phil told Mary who coldly replied it shouldn’t happen again.  
Dean felt his nervousness leaving as he was working. He was actually singing to focus on his job and not on the noises and he noticed it had a strange consequence: some of the patients calmed down and it was quieter. He could still hear some people moaning but no one was screaming anymore.

Room 14… Castiel turned his back to the window and looked at his room’s door. He tilted his head and his face softened… he was listening to Dean singing.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Sam was crying on his bed. Dean came in forcing a smile and went to him with a wet clothe in his hand. He gently put it on his injured eyebrow to clean the blood. He sat next to him on the bed when he felt his back hurt, bringing memories of the last beating.  
When he was done he put the wet clothe on the nightstand and held his brother in his arms. Here in this old room where they were always hiding, he started to sing. It was clumsy at first but after a moment Sam let himself drown in his brother’s voice.  
He was singing “The River” by Bruce Springsteen.  
Tears flowed down Sam’s cheeks, he was touched about the vibrating and desperate voice of his brother.  
Dean felt Sam relax and he noticed he was falling asleep. He kissed him on his forehead and fell asleep too.

Karen silently approached the bedroom, attracted by the sound of Dean’s voice. She leaned against the wall and listened, her knees on her chest. She couldn’t cry anymore. She looked at the door and then at her wrists: she could not end their pain and she could not end hers either. She hated her cowardice when the melody stopped. She stood up and glanced inside the room where Dean and Sam fell asleep in each other’s arms.  
“I’m sorry.” She said without expecting an answer. She couldn’t save them anyway.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean approached Edward’s room and sighed deeply. He looked inside, the schedule showed he would not be here at that time but he checked as he was told. He had to follow the rules for once.  
When he opened the door the smell made him nauseous.  
“Son of a bitch!” he said half disgusted and amused.  
He tried to bring some fresh air as he did with Phil, and then he noticed Edward made an effort: he only painted one of the bathroom’s walls this time. It would take time to clean all of that anyway.  
On his way to leave the room he fell right in front of Edward coming back from his visit with the doctor, Armand was with him.  
Dean was surprised, not because of this encounter but because of the age of the patient. No details were written on the schedule or on the notepad so he thought Edward would be older, but he looked like he wasn’t more than 25. He was even elegant in his nice pants and shirt, he was looking sophisticated and pretentious at the same time.  
He smiled at Dean and pulled a hair lock away from his forehead which made him look a bit feminine. Dean stepped back, his piercing look made him uncomfortable, and considering Armand’s face he figured he was right to be careful.  
He understood why the East and West quarters were so different. He never felt he was with sick or crazy people when he worked on the West area.  
He left the room but felt Edward’s look on him all the way. Armand followed and closed the door. Dean’s face was showing he was not in ease.

“Be careful with him” Armand said.  
“Why is he here?”  
“He’s a perv. He was arrested for pedophilia and declared irresponsible. He doesn’t see what’s wrong in his actions as they say. Don’t tell anyone but…” he approached and whispered “they say he will never leave this place.”  
“Shouldn’t he stay in a restricted room?” Dean worried.  
“There’s no free room left, and he comes from a very rich family.” He said sarcastically. “They’re part of the generous donors who make St Gerry live.”  
Dean looked at the door “He never attacked anyone here?”  
“Yes he did. He tried with a young patient but nothing went wrong fortunately. We came right on time and since that day we never leave him alone with other patients.”  
Dean frowned “damn money… even here.” There was disappointment in his voice, and some anger too. He thought about Sam who didn’t have the chance to have a rich family to protect him from his madness. His job at the factory wouldn’t have opened any posh hospital’s door to cure him.  
“Mary had no choice you know… you can’t be angry at her for that. She sacrificed her moral for the well-being of all the patients here.”  
“A rich child among poor people… this is the height of absurdity.”  
“I personally see this as a form of justice.” Armand corrected. “Alright I have to go now, my Liliana is waiting for me.”  
“Room 8?”  
“Yeah you’ve met her?”  
“You could say that… she stayed on her chair talking to herself all the time I was here.”  
“She’s an autistic girl.”  
“Which means…?”  
“She can’t communicate with the outside world, but she accepts physical contact and that’s why she’s in this part of the East quarter. She doesn’t have any violent reaction which is pretty rare among autistic people. She just lives in her bubble”  
He was about to leave “Oh and by the way she doesn’t speak to herself, she just repeats the same 10 words again and again, they have sense only for her. Now I really have to go I’m late.”  
“Thank you Armand. Bye.” Dean said pushing his supply cart to next room.  
It was almost 1 pm when Dean arrived near room 14. He had 2 more rooms to clean after this one so he decided to take a pause.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He leaned on the Impala just to take the time to breathe and get some fresh air, a cup of coffee in his hands. He forced himself not to look up.  
He looked down… what was happening to him? Why was he so confused about this patient? He just saw him a few minutes but when he met his eyes he felt he was falling in a black hole.  
He was staring at the ground, playing with his shoes and he persuaded himself his past was just playing tricks as they had some common points, except he had people to help him and he had Sam.  
He threw his coffee on the ground and came back inside.  
Castiel never left his eyes from him, and for the very first time since he entered St Gerry Hall he dared doing something new: he lifted his hand and leaned it on the window.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean met Suzanne in the lobby.  
“Hi Dean!” she said smiling.  
“Hi Suzie.”  
Suzanne was good looking despite her strange fifties look, she probably was a little younger than Dean. She was in training in St Gerry for 4 years as she was continuing to study at the same time. It was obvious she had a thing for Dean since they first met in the refectory the day after he arrived. It was also obvious Dean liked her but he was keeping his distance anyway. He didn’t want to give her hope because there was no hope with him, and it would never have any. He was here for a few days and he would leave in a few months.  
He had to keep his distance to keep her from getting hurt and maybe to keep him from being hurt too. He would hurt her he knew that, he wasn’t able to share anything but pain and violence. He was scared about the rage sleeping in him, ready to wake up at any time, in a bed or in a cage.  
He looked at Suzanne and her black hair… she was almost looking like Louise Brook. He looked at her big brown eyes and hated himself because he felt attracted to her. She came closer.  
“I have to go I still have work to do.” And he left without a look.  
“Hey thanks for the help!”  
“You’re welcome!” he said already in the elevator.  
“… my pleasure Dean…” she finished in a sigh.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean took his supply cart back and looked at the planning. He would clean the last two rooms because they were with the occupational therapist. Actually he was just postponing what he was uncomfortable with.  
At 2pm he went to the day room, there were 15 patients in it. He met Melvin the caretaker in charge.  
“You should come back in 30 minutes, there will be 3 or 4 patients, it will be easier for you to clean and for me to watch. Is it ok?”  
Dean nodded reluctantly… He had no other option, he had to go to room 14.  
He stopped at the door and looked inside. He saw him standing at the window barefoot in his white pajamas… as usual.  
“Ok let’s go…” he said typing the code.  
“Hi Cas!”  
He froze when he saw him moving, just one step turning over. He acted like he ignored it but his whole body was tensed.  
“Come on Dean control yourself… he’s just another crazy man” he was repeating this line in his head, like a prayer.  
He went to the bathroom and started to sing as he cleaned the mirror. It was another way, like the cage, to evacuate the tension. He was tempted to work as fast as he did the day before but he was paid to do the whole job so he had to control him.  
He was singing a Jimmy Hendrix song as he was going back to the room  
“Hey Joe, I said where you goin’ with that gun in your hand”…

Castiel was standing right here next to him, staring at him and Dean froze like time had stopped.

 

End of chapter VI


	7. Crossing looks

He fled… His too blue eyes, too deep, in which he thought he’d drown for a second, sinking in a never-ending hole.

Castiel was standing right in front of him tilting his head, attracted by his voice. He’s never heard anyone singing, for him music was forbidden. The only pleasant sound he heard for all these years was the bird’s singing.  
Dean froze and stopped singing when he saw the depth of his look. It was like he could read his mind.  
Then he stepped away, took his supply cart and fled, leaving a lost Castiel alone in the middle of his room.

Nothing… Invisible… even for this man he had observed since he arrived… This man he shared a look with. He held on this hope like he cared about his precious window but nothing… just emptiness one more time. She was right…  
He stepped back to his window and he started to knock his forehead in rhythm against it. He had to do it to clear his mind and find the emptiness he liked to sink into so much.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean entered the day room, there were only 3 patients in it.  
“Is everything ok man?” Melvin asked noticing the confused look on his face.  
“Yes I’m fine.”  
He doubted it but didn’t insist.  
“You can start cleaning, I’ll stay here.” He added.  
“Thank you, I won’t be long.”  
“Take all the time you need, I’m here till 5 pm anyway.”  
Dean smiled without looking at him.  
The whole time he spent in the day room, he spent it thinking about room 14 patient. He could feel his look on him. So he didn’t notice the white hair man observing him since he arrived and he didn’t see him coming closer smiling and extending his hand.  
When he touched his shoulder Dean was caught by surprised and lifted his fist ready to punch. He stopped when he saw the man leaning on the wall screaming.

Melvin ran “What happened here?”  
“Nothing… he took me by surprise and I had a sudden reaction.”  
Melvin stepped near the man “It’s ok Charles, calm down, it’s nothing.”  
“Bad! Bad! He wanted to hit me!” he said head between his hands.  
The caretaker turned to Dean “Is that true?”  
“I told you: I had a sudden reaction.” He closed his eyes “I’m sorry it won’t happen again.”  
Melvin looked at him furious “Yeah you better not do that again because next time I won’t hesitate talking to the boss! You’re in a hospital don’t forget about it!”  
He helped Charles calming down and talked to him to reassure him.  
“Sorry man…” He said to Charles with a weak smile.  
“Bad!”  
Melvin put him on a chair a little further. Dean felt the look of the two other patients on him. There was a black man swaying on his feet and an older man who kept scratching his head looking at the ceiling.  
“What the hell am I doing here?” Dean whispered.  
He put his supplies on his cart and left the room without looking back.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He closed the door and leaned against the wall, just a few minutes to take the control of his emotions back, then he stood up… he had to get out of here. This is when he noticed a cleaning spray was missing on the supply cart.  
“Shit!”  
He looked inside the day room to see if it was here but he knew where he forgot it. He left so fast he didn’t check his cart.  
“What a douche am I!” he said slapping his forehead.  
He turned around sighing. Room 14… he had to go back. He couldn’t just let it there, it was too dangerous and he already screwed up enough for today. He left his cart and walked toward the room. When he arrived he looked at the small window and lost his confidence.

Castiel was sitting against the wall, in the corner near the window, staring at nothing.  
Dean took a deep breath and typed the code. When he heard the door clicking, Castiel started to swing.  
“Hi. Sorry but I forgot something in the bathroom. I have to take it back, it won’t be long.” He said without giving Castiel a single look. It wouldn’t have changed anything after all he didn’t react when he entered.  
The cleaning spray was on the sink. He took it quickly and stepped back to the door ready to leave when he felt the need to turn to Castiel and asked:  
“Are you ok?”  
He stepped toward him and seeing his distress, he crouched down next to him.  
“Hey dude…” he said with the softest voice he could let out.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

“Hey Sam?”  
He lifted his brother’s chin: he had a swollen face, a split lip, and tears were falling down his cheeks.  
Dean had to leave a few minutes to get some groceries. His mom discreetly gave him money before leaving for work so his father wouldn’t notice and stole it to spend it in bars. She hadn’t been to groceries in years.  
Mr. Gardini was managing a little grocery store on the way to their school. When they were younger and when Karen was still coming with them, they often stopped by to buy what Karen always forgot: bread, milk and cereal. She finally stopped taking them to school because of her work schedule, so Mr. Gardini was seeing Dean, aged 8, holding his little brother by his hand to keep him walking.

Karen always forgot money or groceries because of alcohol. Sam was often hungry but never said anything, so Dean started to steal from the store, it was the only solution he found. He was stealing fruits from the front of the shop and when Gardini wasn’t looking he was stealing cookies or bread. But the man wasn’t blind… he noticed it but said nothing at first.  
One morning he stepped away from the front window to make them think he was gone.  
“Sam don’t move I’ll be right back”  
Sam nodded, he would wait patiently for his brother.  
“I want chocolate!”  
“You’ll have what I can get. Now be quiet and wait for me.”  
When he heard the front door closing behind him he panicked and tried to run in the shop.  
“Dean! Come here buddy I won’t hurt you.” Gardini said with his strong Italian accent.  
He was standing straight with a bag in his hands.  
“Would you stop stealing from now?” he handed him the bag “This is for you and your brother.”  
Dean didn’t dare stepping forward to take it. Gardini noticed his eyebrow that day… each day a new scar.  
“You’ll come here every morning before going to school.”

Since that day and till he was 12, Dean went every morning in Mr. Gardini’s store. He was the one and only person he could talk to. More than once the old man wanted to call the cops to tell them everything about their parents but Dean was always begging him not to because the social services would separate him from his brother. He wouldn’t survive that.  
Mr. Gardini always agreed not to call the police, and every night he would regret it because he knew in the morning he would see those two poor boys coming back holding hands and it would break his heart and remind him how such a coward he was.  
Gardini was listening to them, he was believing them and he was comforting them.  
The old man died in his sleep and with him, their only ray of sun and their only comfort died too. The store closed and Dean had to walk further to find another store to steal from, but the owner was not nice and his dog was way too big.  
He was coming back from this store that day, running because he was scared his dad would come back first. He was scared he would find Sam first instead of him to take the beating.  
When he came back home his father was sleeping in the armchair with a beer on the floor. Dean looked upstairs and knew.  
“Hey Sam…”  
He took care of him. It became a daily routine. Karen and John were drinking more and more, they lost control more and more. They were constantly fighting, insulting each other and living in a love/hate relationship. Two kids had no place between them.

The two brothers were living in the permanent fear to hear his steps in the stairs. He was slapping his wife but he was punching his sons. Dean and Sam were holding each other, listening to those footsteps in the hallway, praying with all their strength for it to not stop in front of their room’s door.  
Sometimes he liked to torture them: he was stopping in front of their room and was talking to them behind the door closed, hitting his fingers on the doorknob and then he would go away.  
Dean always wondered if this kind of torture was not the worst. They were so terrorized they wouldn’t sleep anymore so Dean pushed his chair to prop the door. It didn’t last long because John found out and destroyed the door.  
That day Sam curled under his bed but Dean was not so lucky. John let him half- conscious on the floor, Sam was looking at his empty eyes terrified.  
John never fixed the door so it wouldn’t close anymore. There was a small ray of light under it, letting the hallway’s light filter in the room. The shadow of their father waiting behind that door was one more torture.

Mr. Gardini was just a temporary comfort and sometimes Dean wondered if he shouldn’t have let him call the police or the social services. Being away from each other would maybe have been better that being broken. But Sam cleared that up:  
“Don’t leave me anymore… ever. Promise me Dean.” He begged.  
“I promise Sam… I will never leave you again.”  
He could never be able to keep that promise. Nobody could.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

“Hey Cas…” Dean repeated.  
He stopped swinging and looked up. He was back and he was right in front of him. Dean smiled at him and he couldn’t resist sinking his eyes into this man’s look.  
“You won’t stay here sitting on the floor will you?”  
Dean bent over to get him up but Castiel was terrorized when he saw him extending his hand so he curled up against the wall and looked up to the ceiling, searching for an invisible skylight.  
Dean lost his smile when he saw the terror in his eyes. He knew that look too well.  
“Hey…” He said softly “calm down I won’t hurt you, I just want to help.”  
He tried to extend his hand again and Castiel’s eyes were so full of fear he stepped back. He opened his mouth like he wanted to scream but no sound came out.  
Dean stood up with his hands up to show he was giving up.  
“It’s ok I get it… I’m leaving. Relax.”  
Castiel started swinging again but this time he hold Dean’s look.  
“See you tomorrow?”  
Castiel tilted his head.  
“Bye Cas.” He said with a weak smile.  
He took his cleaning spray back and left. When he closed the door he looked back inside and their eyes met one last time.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

There was a message on his voicemail. He took a look: it was Gaby. He put his phone on his nightstand and laid down on his bed staring at the ceiling. The terrorized look in Castiel’s face appeared in his mind. He put his forearm on his eyes and fell asleep.  
He woke up because of a knock on his door.  
“Dean are you in there? It’s Melvin!”  
He looked at the clock… 5.30 pm.  
“Shit!” He let out and got up.  
One more knock…  
“I’m coming! 2 seconds!”  
He unlocked and opened the door yawning.  
“Oh sorry… I didn’t think I would wake you up.”  
“Me neither.” Dean said stepping aside to let him coming in. Melvin was a bit confused and didn’t get what he meant.  
“You know about earlier… you don’t have to worry it won’t happen again.” Dean said opening his closet “you want some coffee?”  
“Sure thanks.” Melvin replied and sat down on the small kitchen’s bar.  
“Leyla heard Charles screaming…” he said in a sigh.  
Dean was making coffee … “and?”  
“She wanted to know what happened.”  
“What did you say to her?” Dean asked turning the coffee machine on.  
“I told her you accidentally hit Charles with your supply cart.”  
“She believed you?” he asked getting two mugs.  
“I guess she did.”  
Dean turned to him… “Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome, but now I’ll repeat what I said before: if you do that again I’ll have to tell her the truth.”  
“Fair enough. But trust me it won’t happen again.”  
“I hope so… I would hate to tell her something bad about you… you’re a nice guy.”  
Dean smiled “I’ve been called a lot of names but nobody ever said I was nice”.  
He served coffee.  
“Why are you really here Melvin?” He asked suddenly, his question putting Melvin in a very uncomfortable position… “Milk?”  
“No thanks.”  
“So?” Dean insisted.  
“It’s about…” he looked at him and pointed at his black eye.  
“So what?”  
He bent on the table and whispered as if someone could listen “Is that true you’re a fighter in the Cage?”  
Dean leaned back crossing his arms “Where have you heard that?”  
“Everything comes out here…” Melvin said taking a sip of his coffee.  
“Why would you care anyway?”  
“I’m in…”  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“I want to be in!”  
Dean couldn’t help but laughed. Melvin was so skinny and so old!  
“You have absolutely no chance.”  
“Who’s talking about fighting? I want to attend a fight and bet!” he said with shinny eyes.  
“Why?”  
“I’ve seen some free fighting on TV, I bet online… I figured…”  
“… Dean would make you a little favor after the one you’ve made for him today? Am I right?” Dean asked coldly.  
“That’s not what I meant.” Melvin said putting his mug on the table.  
“Get out of here.” Dean answered.  
Melvin looked down feeling a little uncomfortable.  
“Fine… but think about it.”

The caretaker left and Dean sighed. He looked at his phone and listened to Gaby’s message: “Dean it’s Gaby! What have you planned for next Saturday? Jet had to go to the hospital, it’s not too bad but he’s out for the next 3 fights. Call me. Bye.”  
He hung up, sighed deeply and dialed Gaby’s number.  
“Gaby? It’s Dean. Is it still ok for next Saturday?” he asked taking his mug back “You know who will be my opponent?”  
He took a sip and pouted “No, no… it’s gonna be ok. What time?”  
He was walking nervously in his room.  
“I’ll be here. Oh and uuuh… would you add a name on the guests’ list for me?” He smiled “No it’s a guy… Melvin.”  
He put his mug back on the table “Ok see you next Saturday... yeah you too Gaby.”  
He hung up and threw his phone in his bed.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Melvin was sitting on the front stairs smoking a cigarette, his eyes closed. He felt someone sitting next to him.  
“I’ll wait for you Saturday at 6 pm.”  
He opened his eyes and faced Dean.  
“A fight?”  
“Yes.” Dean smiled.  
“I’ve put you on the guests’ list but there is one condition.”  
“Tell me.”  
“I need some information.”  
“Oh?” Melvin looked at him confused. “What kind of information?”  
“I need to know more about one patient.”  
“Wow wow wow…” Melvin stood up “No question. You can forget about the Cage and don’t worry I won’t tell anyone about Charles. I really love my job here and I care about all the patients. You may don’t care because you’ll be gone in six months but I want to stay here till retirement. Don’t count on me for that one.”  
“You’re right, forget about it… it’s not worth it anyway.”  
Melvin threw his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it.  
“I’ll still wait for you on Saturday, I owe you one and I will keep my word.”  
“You don’t owe me anything.”  
“So take it as an invitation.” He smiled.  
“Thanks.”  
He climbed four steps. Dean stared at an invisible point in front of him, his elbows on his legs.  
“You wanna know what about which patient?”  
“Forget about it Melvin!”  
“Just tell me who and I’ll judge if I need to.”  
Dean looked up to the third floor.  
“It’s about room 14.”  
He heard Melvin stepping back.  
“Castiel? The attic boy?”  
Dean nodded.  
“You don’t need me to have information about him, just google it and you’ll find what you want. But I’m warning you, the guy is a total mystery.”  
Dean turned to Melvin with a confused look.  
“Even doctors and shrinks can’t figure out anything about him, but they all agree on one thing…” he stepped forward looking at the third floor too “The guy lived in hell. I don’t know him very much, he never left his room and it’s Missouri and Garth who take care of him most of the time. Sometimes Armand too but it’s rare. Not anybody can approach him like that.”  
He took a deep breath “I wonder if we’ll manage to know more about him one of these days.”  
Melvin climbed the stairs “I have to go.”  
“Melvin!” Dean called.  
“Yeah?”  
“Is there a computer the staff can use here?”  
“Nope. But if you want you can use my laptop.”  
“It would be nice. Thanks.”  
“I’ll give it to you tonight. I have to go for dinner now.”  
“Thanks.”  
“You’re welcome.”  
Dean stood up, he was hungry. Missing lunch was definitely not a good idea. He looked up to the third floor one last time but couldn’t see if he was there.  
“I really need glasses.” He said frowning.

Castiel didn’t look away from him. Missouri was standing next to him with a big smile on her face.  
“He will be back tomorrow don’t worry… but for now you have to eat, come on it will be cold!” she sat “Castiel!”  
He looked down and came to sit in front of her, without looking at her.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Melvin brought him his laptop as promised. He gave him the battery and the passwords and left.  
“I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.”  
“Keep it till Thursday, I won’t need it.”  
“Ok thanks.”  
He waved at Dean and left.  
Dean sat on his bed crossing his legs. He opened his beer and started to type.  
“Ok… Google… attic boy… Castiel.”  
He smiled when he saw the first result: an angel picture.  
“Angel of Thursday uh?”  
He wasn’t very good with computers. He knew the basics but never learnt further. Why would he anyway?

Then he saw newspapers’ articles. He froze when he saw a picture that one of the nurses took when Castiel was transported in the hospital. She sold it for thousands of dollars to one of the local newspapers. This photo was in first page for days.  
He barely recognized him as he was so sick and thin, almost scary with all his bones showing out and his pale skin. It reminded him of one of his history lessons when the teacher showed some pictures of Nazi camps prisoners… It shocked him at that time because he couldn’t help finding some similarities with his life… his prison… his torture. The whole world’s disregard about such a horrible crime… People never learn.

The picture he was looking at was disturbing him. If it wasn’t for his blue eyes he would’ve sworn it was another man. He was sitting in a chair staring at the photographer with his lost look, wondering who the hell that woman was and why she was taking his picture without even trying to know who was the man sitting right in front of her.  
Dean stared at it a long time sinking his eyes in that look full of misery, and he felt a ball in his throat. He closed the laptop quickly. He couldn’t understand what was going on with him, he felt trapped and attracted to this man like a bug was attracted to light. He felt a link with the guy… like they had something in common.  
He finished his beer and went to the bathroom. He took a shower hoping to take those pictures away from his mind but it didn’t work… his look was too intense.  
He took the laptop back and searched for an address… the attic… his hell.  
He needed to understand why.

 

Castiel was on his bed, staring at the wall in front of him.  
Her face… looking at him with an evil smile… and then his green eyes erasing hers and taking all the place.  
That night he fell asleep and no nightmare came to disturb him.

 

End of chapter VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope to see you sunday for the next chapter


	8. The book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank you to follow this story  
> I know that sometimes words and sufferings are hard to read in this fic, but all this abuses and pains are a reality
> 
> Don't forget that at the end of this story, there will be light

I would like to thank you to follow this story  
He parked the Impala near a bookstore. He got out of it avoiding a laughing kid running on the walkway. Some man, his dad obviously, was following him.  
“Be careful Brandon! You almost hit the man!” he said giving Dean an apologizing look.  
Dean felt a bit sad about it. He pushed the bookstore’s door and looked back, the man took the kid in his arms and kissed him.

He closed the door and it ringed. It was a nice place with the smell of books in the air. A man with his glasses around his neck approached.  
“Hello Sir, may I help you?” he asked with a smile.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Misses Nora, with her forever ruffled hair and her glasses at the end of her nose, was St Vincent’s librarian.  
Dean was going in her books kingdom once a week with his class. He didn’t like school that much, it was just a shelter for him and his brother. He was the quiet student trying to not bring intention on him or on Sam… or on their scars.  
When his father was beating too hard he pretended to fall in the schoolyard. He wasn’t looking for trouble because he was too scared the teacher would call his dad to get him at school… of course he would pay for that.  
His teachers just thought he was a clumsy kid. Sam had less scars so he didn’t bring attention at all. One of Dean’s teachers was suspicious though… he always was asking questions about his life at home but Dean always refused to answer. The teacher knew something was wrong but as fate was always striking, he was transferred in another school the next year, ending all Dean’s unconscious hopes to end this.

 

Misses Nora was every Thursday mornings’ meeting for Dean, and every Friday mornings’ meeting for Sam. It was always the same ritual: she was taking a book, leaning in her armchair, the kids were sitting in front of her on the floor, she was opening the book rearranging her glasses and was smiling seeing the first page.  
It was very quiet when she started reading. She had such a captivating voice, they were all living adventures with pirates or ghosts as she was reading making faces and imitating them. It was full of suspense and laughter. She was trying to give each character a single personality. She loved reading books as much as her students loved listening to her.  
Misses Nora was open-minded and curious and she liked getting other people curious too. Even if Dean didn’t like school, he loved Thursdays. It was a tiny light into his darkness. He was always looking down shyly when she was putting some book in her bag and told him to be quiet about it.

When the house was getting some silent the evening, he was reading that same books to his brother, imitating Misses Nora’s reading and bringing a smile on Sam’s face for a few minutes.  
He grew up and left junior high, so magic Thursdays left too. He tried something else then: music.  
Sam was still in junior high so he was still attending her reading sessions, and as she knew he was Dean’s brother, she kept giving books to him. Dean would still read stories to him and sometimes he was singing. He had a soft and low voice. Sam liked looking at his brother when he was singing, leaning against the bedroom’s wall, his eyes closed, locked in this new freedom they shared.

The day Dean left High School, he stopped at Misses Nora’s library. She was older and had grey hair but she hadn’t changed that much. There were no reading sessions in St Vincent anymore, but kids always liked to come to her so she would talk to them about her stories while they were eating their cookies.  
Dean stepped toward the counter and she smiled. He grew up but she recognized him. He gave her a smile, he was here to thank her for everything she’s done, giving her a chocolate box. Of course he never mentioned he stole it. She was so happy about it she kissed him and his body tensed. She noticed it and stepped back putting her hand on his arm and giving him an intense look. Dean closed himself like an oyster.  
He was not used to receive such marks of affection; except for Sam and his mom when he was very little. He never had a proper hug or a kiss like this one.

That’s why he wasn’t keeping any girlfriend too, he was unable to share tender gestures so they were bored most of the time and left. It was sexy at first, giving him the bad boy attitude girls liked so much, but after a while they would figure it was just his true nature and they would have nothing more than that.  
He was 15 when he found a training job at the factory. He had to do it to bring a future to Sam who loved to study.  
Dean was no longer afraid of his father, he was fighting back and Sam started to do the same. Soon there were only screams, verbal abuse, threats, and the gun locked in the parent’s room closet.

Sam was finding peace in his studies and Dean in his music. One of his factory’s coworker taught him how to play guitar. Just basics to know how to play a bit while he was singing. It wasn’t rare during lunch that workers were here in the canteen just to listen to Dean singing and playing guitar. It was the only thing he would share with people from the outside.  
He stopped singing for people when his brother went to the psychiatric hospital, but he was still singing for himself and for Sam. It was an unbreakable link between them.  
The music and the Cage… two different universes but both something he needed to survive.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean looked up to the librarian.  
“No thank you… I’m just watching.”  
“Alright Sir let me know if you need anything.”  
“Ok…Thank you.”  
He searched in the shelves, his hands in his pockets. Then he saw old books on a table and one of them made him curious. He took it and smiled while he was turning the pages.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He had eggs and coffee this morning. He was deeply thinking about his day and what would come this afternoon.  
Garth came over smiling.  
“Hey! So how was your first day?” he asked looking if he could sit down with him.  
Dean nodded to confirm he could.  
“Not so bad. Thanks again for the planning it was very helpful.”  
“You’re welcome.” He searched his pocket and handed him a folded piece of paper.  
“Here you are. Planning of the day.”  
“Thanks.” He said taking it and putting it on the table next to him. He was dying to open it and read it but wouldn’t show Garth, even if his look betrayed him.  
“He will stay in his room… he always do.” Garth said taking a bite of his pancake.  
Dean didn’t react. How the hell did he know?  
“So what do you think about the East quarter now?”  
“I have to admit the patients are a little bit more…” he searched for the exact word avoiding the forbidden ones.  
“Difficult?” Garth helped.  
“Not really… I’d say off their rocker but I suppose it wouldn’t be appropriate.”  
Garth laughed.  
“I guess you’re right after all.”  
Dean smiled without looking away from his plate. He knew what Garth wanted to talk about and he really wanted to avoid the subject.  
“I talked to Melvin.” Garth said.  
“Oh. And?”  
“You’ve met Charles?” He said smiling.  
“It was an accident.” He said on the defensive.  
“You don’t have to justify yourself.” Garth replied still eating. “You did well for a first day.”  
“Really?”  
“When Phil started working he made a riot in the day room after only an hour.” He laughed remembering it and stopped when he saw Dean wasn’t reacting.  
“Don’t forget it’s Wednesday”  
Dean frowned.  
“Suzanne’s not here you’ll have to clean the West quarter too.”  
Dean froze.  
“Dude are you ok?” Garth worried.  
“I completely forgot.” He said pushing his plate away.  
“Have you planned something else?”  
“Yeah… no…forget about it.” He said and went quiet, lost in his heavy silence.  
“I can help you when I’m done if you want. We can make it in an hour.”  
Dean looked up.  
“I can’t ask you this, Garth. You’ve done enough for me.”  
“It will be my pleasure. I haven’t been there for a while. I’ll take that opportunity to say hi to my favorites.”  
Dean knew Garth was lying, he’s never been to the West quarter, but he didn’t say anything. They were both keeping secrets.  
“Let’s meet at 1 pm in front of the East gate, ok?”  
Dean looked at his watch… 7.45 am, and then he stood up.  
“I owe you one Garth.”  
“You don’t, I told you it’s my pleasure.”  
“I doubt it.” Dean smiled lifting his plate. “See ya! I gotta run or I won’t be on time.”  
“Hey Dean?”  
He turned back and saw Garth handing his planning paper.  
“Oh shit I almost forgot. Thanks man.”  
He put it in his jeans’ pocket. Garth looked at him leaving and took a deep breath. He felt her sitting next to him.  
“Hi Missouri, you’re early today.”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He started by the day room this time. Only the black man from yesterday was sitting here. He was staring at the table in front of him. Dean could see his feet moving under it. Obviously he couldn’t help it.  
Armand nodded to greet him when he entered and did the same when he left. The caretaker, without being someone unpleasant, seemed to care more about the patients and not so much about his colleagues. He was not talking so much and when he did, he was saying the minimum. Sometimes Dean wondered if he wasn’t just mimicking the patients.  
He looked at the planning and saw Edward would be away for an hour so he took this opportunity to go clean his room. He didn’t want to meet him again, he felt too uncomfortable around him and he was a little creepy. He saw evil in his eyes, he almost recognized his father’s cold brown eyes.  
He made a masterpiece today… he “painted” the wall in front of his bed and the one in the bathroom. He figured Edward only found this way to let Dean know he wanted to be the smartest.  
Dean sighed putting his gloves on. He started to sing and suddenly smiled… he knew he would listen to him, so he sang a little louder.

It was an Otis Redding song, “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay.”  
Castiel turned to the door. He tilted his head as he wanted to listen to this strange sound coming from the corridor. The screams were mixed in the melody but he was focusing only on his voice… Dean’s voice.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He closed his car’s door. He was standing in front of the house but he hesitated a long time.  
Why?

As soon as he saw the address on his screen he knew he would come here. Something deep inside him was pushing him to do it, this look that was haunting him even in his sleep. His distress was calling him.  
He finally figured there was no explanation to find, he was just following his instinct. He was connected to him whether he liked it or not, whether he chose it or not. Fate chose for him. The fastest he would understand what was wrong with Castiel, the fastest he would forget about it and go on with his life… at least what he called a life. He looked at his hands full of scars and wounds: he would feel alive next Saturday.  
He looked up to see the dead house. From where he was standing he could already see the broken windows because nobody has lived in here since Elizabeth McLean, and because the house was visited a lot by young people trying to steal anything they could.  
He crossed the empty street. Except for a small house nearby, the life in this street seemed to have run from this part of town. It was so quiet he would’ve thought he’d been in countryside. It was the perfect place to hide from the world…

When he arrived to the broken gate, he looked up to the roof pointing at the sky, and he felt sad. A whole life locked in here… he just couldn’t imagine what it was like. It seemed impossible, even for someone like him who lived his own kind of hell. What monster could hide and abuse a human being till he was 30 without him to find the courage to flee? What kind of darkness does someone need to enslave someone like that for so long?  
He needed to know.  
The yellow police crossing line was hanging at the half open door. He pouted: it was such wreckage he wouldn’t find anything to help him understand, but he pushed the door anyway and stepped in.  
The smell… humidity mixed with pee. Cats must enjoy the place for sure. The first thing he saw was the stuffed dog near the stairs. There was a hat and a fake blue moustache on it. Dean smiled, thieves had some sense of humor.  
He stepped in what he supposed was the living room, it was a real mess, and it was not only because of the housebreakers, he figured she was a real messy woman too. On the wall he could read “BITCH!” written with red painting spray.  
After looking at the room he went to the kitchen. There were blood marks on the floor, probably that woman’s blood. Dean surprised himself smiling at that… it was almost a satisfaction to see her blood right here. All the closets were open.  
He swore when he almost fell on an empty can. There was absolutely no sign of life except the few Elizabeth left behind her… two pictures: a woman, kind of beautiful, a man with an empty look on her side, and a little smiling boy hanging at the arms of who probably was his son. It was a black and white picture but Dean figured the kid’s eyes were blue, and his hair was almost blond so he thought it was not Castiel.  
The second picture was a man in his forties with his mouth hanging and his eyes empty… he looked really dumb.  
Dean scratched his jacket, he felt like the dirt was sticking to his clothes. The house was so old he figured she never cared about cleaning or keeping it fresh.  
“Crazy house…” Dean whispered and sighed.

He looked to the hallway and was very surprised to see so many crosses in the house: One in the living room, one in the kitchen near the sink, another one in the first floor’s wall.  
He walked toward the stairs and started climbing the first step, and he stopped, he was feeling very nervous at that moment. He exhaled and closed his eyes, and finally he found the courage to climb all the stairs. There was a long hallway with four doors.  
He walked through it and looked inside each room. There was one bathroom and three bedrooms. The first one was probably hers as there still was a night clothe on the bed. There was also Virgin Mary on her nightstand and Jesus-Christ on the wall above the bed.  
In the second room the bed was in order. If there weren’t drawers on the floor he would’ve think nobody have slept in this room for years.  
In the third room there was just an empty bed and the curtains were closed. Dean entered when he saw a huge open case. He was curious… why was it still here after all the thieves’ visits? It was like nobody wanted to touch it. It was actually full of pajamas and night clothes, all folded and in order but dirty and used. Dean extended his hand slowly and he took one of the clothes. It was a night shirt. As soon as he moved it, a terrible wave of urine smell almost made him puke.  
“Holy shit!” He said full of emotion and surprise.  
He put it back in the case and wiped his hand on his pants.

He walked out of the room feeling nauseous. He looked up and saw a trapdoor on the ceiling. He felt his courage leaving his body but after a few minutes of hesitation he walked toward it and saw the ladder built to climb up. He took it and placed it under the trapdoor. He climbed it and was suddenly near the hell’s door, he wasn’t so sure he still wanted to see it. He lost all his strength making his legs shake. He pushed some wire away with his hands and searched where it could come from. He wasn’t long to find out and it was already a part of the answers he needed: the trapdoor was electrified, he couldn’t get out. He tried to turn it on and off using the switch but there was no power in the house.  
He pushed the trapdoor with his shoulder and it opened in a loud noise, he could hear the locks clicking when it fell on the attic’s floor.  
He looked up to the wood roof, climbed the last ladder’s bar and froze when he was almost in the attic.  
It was just a room with a very high ceiling, there was something looking like a fireplace in the center but he saw nothing to light a fire in it. It was a very big place, probably the whole surface of the house. The only opening was a big skylight but it was so dirty the sun was barely filtering inside. He saw a switch on a wall so he finally stepped inside the attic.  
He took his head in his hands: 30 years in this place, how could he possibly be alive today?  
He walked, the floor was crackling under his feet and he wondered if it would be strong enough to support his weight.

Behind the fireplace, against the wall, there was something he figured was a bed. The sheets were very dirty and very old, the pillow had no case and Dean was shocked when he saw leather bands on the four corners of the bed, probably used as ties.  
His eyes fell on some dry flowers at the feet of the bed. He approached and saw a note on it saying “I’m sorry.” It was probably one of the housebreakers who came here and knew the story of the house. There was nothing to steal or destroy in here though.  
There was nothing except the bed, a table and a chair. Of course there was a cross hanging on the fireplace too. He also saw a shelf and few books on it, full of dirt and used because of humidity. He couldn’t even read anything on it. Some pajamas were on it too, some very old underwear and a pair of old shoes.  
Dean was submerged by emotion, he felt his throat tightening. Picturing Castiel between those walls, lost with nothing more than a skylight, he understood why he was always standing at his window in St Gerry… it was so clear now.

He walked a bit and saw something looking like a closet. Actually it was his bathroom, just a big bowl with a tap, only cold water of course, a colorless towel full of holes, a brick of black soap and chemical toilets.  
Dean felt a tear on his cheek, he wiped it with his hand, he was full of rage at that moment. No pain, no sadness, just anger and rage. How a kid, a teenager and later an adult could’ve been hidden for so long without anyone to notice? How come nobody ever tried to understand? It should’ve been some signs! Nobody heard him cry? Or scream? Or move? How can you possible stay here quiet?

Then he remembered Sam and him… there had been signs but people were deaf and blind about them.  
Submerged by rage, he punched the wall with all his strength which left a hole in it. It left a hole in his heart too. He could never forget what he saw today.  
It took a few minutes for him to calm down. He turned around and saw drawings on the wall. He approached frowning, they were almost gone, but there were a lot. He looked and extended his hand to touch, it was almost graved in the wall and in the wood. He put his full hand on it and closed his eyes, then he stood up in a sigh and left without looking back in the attic.  
He ran down the stairs, and in the alley until he reached his car. He sat in the Impala, turned the engine on and drove.  
On his way back in St Gerry he tried to calm down and find his self-control back, but he was still submerged by rage and pain.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He decided room 14 would always been the last he would clean, and the one he would spend more time in too. He would spend less time with the other patients and felt a bit guilty about it but after all they were all in the day room when he was cleaning their rooms, and he was not a caretaker.  
He looked inside through the small window and here he was again, standing in front of the window. He wondered what was happening in his head while he was watching outside. He typed the code and stepped in taking a deep breath.  
“Hi Cas!”  
He saw his shoulder shivering but he didn’t turn around. Dean searched for his eyes in the window’s reflection but Castiel wasn’t looking. He felt a note of disappointment and pouted.  
“What did you expect?” he thought walking to the bathroom.  
When he started cleaning the bathroom and start singing, Castiel turned around, first looking at the floor and then his eyes moved to the bathroom’s door. Dean was still singing the Otis Redding song.  
He was cleaning the mirror when he felt observed. He half smiled, stopped singing and turned a bit. Castiel was here, leaning in the bathroom’s door with his tilted head proving he was listening.

“You like it right?” Dean said stepping forward.  
Castiel stepped back at the first move. Dean faked needing his rag on the supply cart and he showed it to Castiel to prove him he didn’t want to harm, but Castiel stayed in the middle of the room refusing to come back.  
Dean started to talk to him without even knowing why, he was just feeling free to do it.  
“You seem to like music? I should think about bringing my MP3 player one of these days… ok it’s terrible compared to vinyl’s disk but at least you can use it everywhere. But really nothing will be better than old school disks.”  
He was still talking music and Castiel didn’t understand a thing. MP3… speakers… disks… words without any meaning for him. What had a meaning though was the man talking to him, making him feel he was real and alive… he really had a life. He wasn’t speaking to him like he was a mad person or as he couldn’t understand, he was just talking to him like he was a normal human being. Not like Garth who was always talking about his own life and never cared about him. He felt Dean wanted to share something.

When he came back in the room, Dean saw Castiel didn’t move from his spot but he had no fear, no pain and no confusion in his eyes… he looked curious.  
“Well it seems music woke you up. That’s good news I’ll remember it.”  
He stepped forward and this time Castiel didn’t move, but he still tensed a little and he put his right arm on his chest. Dean smiled a little at that move, it didn’t mean anything to him. He was now right in front of Castiel.  
“I will talk about it with Mary or Garth and see if I can bring some music in here because dude it’s really boring! You must be damned bored here all day uh?”  
He smiled and Castiel tilted his head. After a short moment of silence Dean hesitated but said:  
“This afternoon I’m going for a little trip. I’m going… I’m going…” he really mumbled on that one “I’m going to see your previous house. I just wanted you to know, don’t ask me why.”  
He laughed alone.  
“It’s crazy because you can’t talk and you sure won’t answer me anyway.” He looked at him and his forever lost look.  
“I wonder if you understand a word I’m saying.” He sighed. “Anyway… I just wanted you to know about it. That’s all.”  
Castiel didn’t react.  
“Ok move from here or I’ll be late.” He said looking at his watch. “Damn! 12:45!”  
He caught his broom “Come on move!”  
Castiel understood and obeyed, walking to the window. He took his position back and observed Dean cleaning in a rush.  
“I’m sorry, we’ll talk longer tomorrow… well I will talk longer tomorrow.” He said smiling.  
“I need to go to the West quarter now and I have to hurry if I want to go to…” he looked at Castiel “…well you know.”  
It brought a few minutes of silence.  
“I have to go now. I would like to stay but… you know… see you tomorrow?”  
Castiel turned to face the window but this time Dean caught his look in the reflection.  
“Bye Cas!”  
He closed the door looking back one last time and he walked to the exit with his cart, Garth was waiting for him there.  
Missouri got out of Charles’ room: she knew it. She had to talk to Mary.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean came back just in time from his strange visit, Mark was about to close the kitchen. He gave him the dinner he saved for him and as the refectory was empty Dean decided to take it and eat in his place.  
He put his plate on his desk and took the book out of the little bag. He took a pen he wrote on the first page “property of Castiel.”  
Tomorrow was Thursday. In three days Phil would be back and his work at the East quarter would end. He couldn’t help but felt bad about it. He would have to talk to Mary and be honest. If she refused to switch with Phil sometimes, he would ask if he could still visit him. She would ask a ton of questions but he was decided to answer and tell the truth, the only truth: “we shared hell.” Even if Dean’s hell wasn’t the same: Castiel had no Sam, no Misses Nora, no Deveraux and no Gaby… it was just him and the devil woman.  
The pain and the scars in their bodies and their souls are the same though. Dean wanted to be the helping hands which saved him.  
He hoped he could wake something up in him with the book and the music.  
“We’re going to make it, you’ll see.”  
He ate, took a shower and crashed on his bed.

 

End of chapter 8

If you like this story, don’t hesite to share it  
Or, perhaps, just talk about all this (the abuses and pains), with your family or friends, maybe there are a Castiel or a Dean not so far…  
Please listen, look at them…  
Help them…  
Thank you to have read this chapter, hope to see you in next one…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope to see you sunday for the next chapter


	9. When destiny meets reason

Dean woke up early this Thursday morning. He took the book and slid it in his belt. He knew Mary would have breakfast at 6:30 am right before the morning visit of her patients.  
Since he started working in the East quarter he’s never met her again and he hadn’t search for it.  
When he entered the refectory, she was already here talking to a nurse. Dean saw that nurse before but never spoke to her so he didn’t know her name. There were more than 20 staff members in St Gerry, Dean knew a few of them but he never tried to know more.  
She saw him standing away from their table staring at them a little embarrassed, so after a few words the nurse stood up and left, offering her sit to Dean. He put his plate full of French toasts and eggs on the table.  
“Good morning, Dean.”  
“Hi.” He took the book and put it on the table.  
She smiled looking at the book while Dean was making him comfortable.  
“Garth told me you’re doing a great job in the East quarter.”  
“Did he?” He replied looking at his plate.  
“Yes.” She leaned back in her sit holding her cup of coffee, trying to make her fingers warmer, she always had cold hands. “You wanted to talk to me?”  
“Yes… about the East quarter.” He put his fork back on the table “I would like to continue working there.”  
Mary stared at her coffee “Why?”  
“Just… you know… to change.” He answered shrugging.  
She put her mug back on the table.  
“No, Dean. Next Monday Phil will be back and you’ll go back to the West quarter, and in a few months Suzanne will be back from her training and she’ll take her job back so you’ll have to leave.”  
“So I’m here for six months and you’ll throw me away like a piece of garbage?” he asked taking his fork back and playing with his eggs.  
“I never said that, Dean. I’m just saying you won’t be in charge of the East quarter.”  
“And of the West quarter either. There are not so many other options left as every other position is provided.”  
Mary seemed surprised.  
“Are you saying you want to stay here?”  
He stayed quiet, still playing in his plate.  
“Is there something I should know about that you haven’t told me?”  
She took the book and Dean looked up. He extended his hands to take it back.  
“Don’t!” He said.  
She moved her chair back so she was too far from him to catch it.  
“Hey you can’t do that!” he almost screamed.  
She looked at him surprised by the tone of his voice. He felt the look of the other people here on him.  
“It’s mine…” He whispered.  
She opened it and read without showing anything on her face.  
“You wanted to give it to him?”  
Dean pushed his plate away.  
“I wanted to ask you first… I don’t know anything about patients like him and I was afraid to make a mistake.”  
She gave the book back to him. He took it and put it back on the table. She took her cup of coffee back in her hands and there was a very heavy silence floating in the air.  
“Why?” she asked.  
“Why what?”  
“Why him? There are lots of patients here… why Castiel?”  
He was lost in his thoughts, eating his eggs, and the expression on his face changed suddenly.  
“I can’t explain. It’s like that, period.”  
“Missouri calls it destiny.” She smiled.  
“What do you call it?”  
“I’m a psychiatrist, Dean… I don’t believe in destiny.”  
He swallowed and talked in a casual tone:  
“When my week there will be over I…” he paused.  
“You what?”  
“I’d like to keep visiting him.” He said staring at his hands nervously.  
“You know just… from time to time.” He added trying to sound detached.  
Mary leaned back in her chair and pushed a hair lock from her forehead. She saw really well what it cost Dean to ask such a favor from her, which just proved he was already very concerned about Castiel.  
“You’ll probably leave in six months, Dean… what will happen then?”  
“I’ll keep visiting him.”  
“Really? What if you find a job far from here or something happens to you?”  
He felt her staring at him… She knew about the Cage.  
“How will Castiel handle it? Have you thought about that?”  
“I will never leave too far from here. I have a hate/love relationship with this town. Even when I had opportunities I never left, and God knows I wanted to.”  
She crossed her arms.  
“What about that?” she pointed at his blue-green eyebrow.  
“Don’t ask me to stop.”  
“Even for him?”  
“Because of him.” Dean wasn’t thinking about Castiel when he said that but about Sam and about all the anger his death was still provoking in him. The Cage was the only way to handle it and letting it out.  
“There is someone behind this silence.” He whispered.  
She looked at him surprised to hear such words in Dean’s mouth. He had empty eyes when he looked at Mary.  
“I don’t try to understand anymore, I just know something connected us. I tried to find a reason for all of this, thinking our broken past was the only reason we’re so messed up, but I realized it’s not only about that.”  
He looked at her deep in the eyes.  
“I have very few good memories of my childhood, you know… except Sam, all my life was a mess and I’m still fighting this today, but I had the chance to meet great people along the way and they stopped me from falling deep in hell. You can judge my fights in the Cage, but without it I wouldn’t be here talking to you today.”  
“I’m not judging anything, Dean.”  
“Oh right I almost forgot… you don’t judge, you analyze, and I’m here talking about my problems like a douche.”  
“Dean…” she sighed in a soft voice.  
“Alright forget about it… I don’t know what happened to me, you’re right: in six months I’ll be gone and maybe it’s better like that. I would hurt him anyway, I always do. I’m not here to make friends, I don’t even know how to do that and he’s probably feeling better in his fake heaven than in this terrible world bringing him only disappointment.”  
He stood up, took the book and put it back in his belt.  
“You don’t even believe a word about what you just said… you wouldn’t have come here to talk to me if you did.”  
He took his plate.  
“Leave me alone. Next Monday it will be all over, period.”  
He turned around and started to leave.  
“You can give him the book, Dean.”  
He stopped a few seconds and started walking again.  
“And for the rest…” she whispered to herself “I hate when destiny meets reason.” She stood up sighing deeply.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

When Dean received his first pay check, he invited Sam in a restaurant that one of his coworkers talked to him about, one of those small intimate restaurants. It was the first time for Sam and Dean. They only went once in McDonald’s for Sam’s tenth birthday but never went back. Sam enjoyed it and kept the Happy Meal box and the toy that was inside: a tiny Darth Vader.  
Dean found the toy after Sam was interned, but he had no strength to throw it so he put it in the Impala’s trunk. There was a small iron case in his trunk full of souvenirs from his brother.

It was a Mexican restaurant. Dean ordered a lot of different food and they both ate too much. Sam was almost 13 and Dean saw better days to come. He was working and earning his own money, he didn’t need his mother or his father anymore, he was the one in charge in the family. Karen and John could buy all the drinks they wanted, Dean didn’t care anymore because he knew Sam would have anything he wanted thanks to his job.  
Sure it was still hell in the house, but Dean and his brother had found their personal heaven.  
It became a ritual: they spent each pay check day in a restaurant. To thank his brother, Sam was working hard in college and he was very successful.  
Dean never saw the distress hidden in his brother’s eyes. They could feel each other’s pain but Dean always thought he was doing enough efforts to save Sam from his demons, but Sam was feeling very guilty to see his brother working so hard to pay his college studies. Dean always said he was happy about it, because Sam’s happiness was bringing him happiness too. Sam understood, but he couldn’t handle the weight of madness anymore.

That day, the day before the ritual pay check restaurant, Sam came back from college and John was waiting for him in the kitchen, almost sober.  
“We need to talk, son.”  
Sam went to the fridge and swore when he saw there was no soda left, only beers.  
“You hear me?”  
“I’m not deaf.” He answered coldly. He was in a very bad mood because he screwed an important exam that morning and he didn’t know how to say to his brother he would probably repeat a year in college if he wasn’t making efforts. He actually didn’t know how to say to Dean he just didn’t want to, he was too tired and couldn’t find the strength to do it.  
“I need you to talk to your brother.”  
“Why?”  
“Your mother is very sick.”  
“And?”  
“Sam… it’s your mother I’m talking about!” John said, shocked.  
“My what? Since when?” Sam laughed.  
“Doctors say it’s a tumor.”  
Sam took a glass of water. He was feeling bad and guilty but she didn’t deserve his pity.  
“I don’t have enough money to pay her medical assistance.” John explained.  
“What about the insurance?”  
John looked down and Sam stared at him.  
“The insurance!” he insisted.  
“We have no insurance anymore.”  
“What? Since when?”  
“It doesn’t matter when.”  
“Yeah you both drank the matter out of it, right. Drink it till you die then!” Sam said angrily.  
He was about to leave the room when his dad caught him by his sleeve.  
“You have to talk to Dean, he will listen to you!”  
“Go to hell. I won’t talk to Dean, you hear me? Go back to your beer.”  
Sam brutally pushed him away and left. He wanted to catch his bag but his dad came behind him and pushed him against the wall.  
“You little dick! You don’t wanna help your mother? Fine… Justice will make you do it then. You still live under our roof, we give you a place to live and we feed you!”  
Sam gave him an evil laugh.  
“Excuse me? Dean pays half of the rent for the house because you and mom can’t deal with a single dollar! He’s the one filling the fridge without you caring to fill it… you’re way too busy trying to fill your mad-alcoholic stomach!”  
Sam received a slap right in the face. Karen just slapped him. He was so shocked he held his cheek in silence.  
“I forbid you to talk to your father like that!”  
“My father? That piece of garbage who made hell out of our life? And you were the guardian of it by the way! I have only one father, and it’s DEAN!” He yelled.  
“That little shit? He’s just good enough to put new tires on cars!”  
“Don’t talk about him like that!”  
“I talk like I want! He’s my son!”  
“He’s not your son… you’re no father and you’ve never been! You’re a monster full of alcohol!”  
“A monster who will stay your father whether you like it or not! You don’t run from what you are! If I am a monster… a monster you both will be.” John gave him an evil look and walked toward the living room.  
“If Dean doesn’t want to pay for his mother… I’ll call a lawyer. We’ll see who will have the last word… as long as you’ll live in my house you will bow and do what I want!”  
Sam heard him opening the closet under the television and he recognized the specific noise of glass.  
Karen put her hands in her hair… it was dirty. John and her forgot the way to the bathroom a long time ago. She walked to the kitchen and missed Sam’s look turning into darkness and emptiness. It was a fight among others… his failure… his fear to disappoint Dean… years of abuse… Dean always fighting for him… Dean living only for his brother and forgetting to live for himself too because he was thinking he wasn’t worth it…  
It was too much… he needed to do something for his brother now. He would free him.

 

When Dean came back home, Sam felt him more than he saw him. An angry scream and footsteps on the floor… time was frozen and then he felt him on his side.  
Sam wanted to tell him it was all over, that he was free and could live his own life now, but when he looked in his eyes, right before falling forever, he understood he made a terrible mistake. He just killed his brother because his own life was connected to his brother’s. How could he possibly tell him he wasn’t as strong as he was? How to say he was too tired? How can you admit to someone you love that you want to die to stop the pain eating your soul?  
He turned into emptiness thinking about what he’s written on the wall with the blood of his father: “Promise me you will live for me.” Dean would know what it meant.  
One night, when their father was screaming his rage and hitting them with a wood stick, they promised to each other if one of them died, the other would live to break the curse of their family and give a meaning to their life. They were so young when they promised each other… maybe it would’ve been stupid a few months later, but a promise is a promise. They would never break one, it was a strength they shared, a connection, a truth… their trust.  
That cursed day, Dean whispered in his brother’s ear that he would never promise such a thing anymore. He should’ve followed him the day Sam closed his eyes forever, but since that day he was only surviving.  
And then St Gerry Hall happened… and destiny hit him.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He casually pushed his cart… talking to Mary disturbed him. She was right though: in six months what would happen? Dean could never know what tomorrow would bring.  
There will be a time when he won’t be able to fight in the Cage anymore, because of his physical condition or because Gaby wouldn’t let him do it anymore, he knew that. In this weird environment made of violence, blood and money, there were rules to follow anyway and one of it was “If a coach gives up on you, no one will give you another chance.”  
Castiel deserved more than a lost soul without any future and without any hope. He lived his own hell and he couldn’t survive living another one.

It was almost 1 pm when he stopped in front of room 14. He glanced through the small window and saw he was here, of course. He typed the code and stepped in the room.  
He didn’t say hi, he wanted to avoid any contact. He went in the bathroom without a word or a look. Castiel was waiting for the sound of his voice but he didn’t sing. He waited for him to come near him but he wasn’t even looking at him.  
Why?... What did he do wrong again?... Why was he angry at him?  
Dean was cleaning the toilet when he heard a thud in rhythm. He stopped what he was doing and stood up.  
“Cas?”  
He walked toward the room and froze at the bathroom’s door: Castiel was knocking his head on the window.  
Dean stepped toward him as relaxed as he could even if deep down he just wanted to run and take him away from the window.  
“Hey, Cas…”  
He stepped forward and ended up standing right next to him.  
“Cas it’s me… Dean.”  
The thud stopped but Castiel kept his forehead on the window and turned his face a little to his left. Dean put his forehead on the window too and turned his face to his right to meet his gaze, and then he smiled.  
“You brat… you know what you’re doing right now? It’s called blackmail.”  
Castiel tilted his head still stuck on the window. Dean stared at him drinking his distress, then he stepped back and sat on the bed.  
“In two days I won’t be able to come anymore, Cas…” he said in a husky voice. “… Phil will take his position back and I’ll take mine in the West quarter.”  
He looked down to avoid his look.  
“I didn’t think it would be so hard you know… we don’t even know each other and then… you and your fucking eyes talking to me!” he tried to sound like he was joking but his voice was sad.  
“Mary doesn’t want me to come back here. After all she may be right… in six months my job will end and I’ll have to leave so it’s better if we keep some distance.”  
He laughed alone.  
“If anyone could hear me right now!” He looked up still laughing and fell on Castiel’s gaze. He saw only misery. Castiel understood everything.  
“Don’t look at me like that… you’re making it even more painful.” He stood up from the bed.  
“I shouldn’t have asked to work here. Now I’m being punished for my curiosity or my pride I don’t even know what it was in the first place.” He admitted and his smile froze.  
He took his broom and started to clean the room. Right now he just wanted to cry... yes, right, him… Rage… crying when he hasn’t cried since Sam’s death.  
He was feeling his look calling him, asking him to turn around, but he didn’t, and then he heard him walking closer to him.  
“Cas no…” he whispered.  
He stepped away and put his broom back in the cart. He took the short-handled brush and crouched down to clean the imaginary dust on the floor.  
Castiel stepped forward and crouched down a few steps from him. He was still too scared to come closer than that, but for Dean, it was like Castiel was grabbing him. He looked at him from the corner of his eye and noticed he was looking at his toes, his hands crossed on his knees, in a very bad balance. He looked like a submissive animal.  
Feeling very uncomfortable, Dean stood up quickly throwing the brush in the garbage on his cart. He glanced at him between the broom and the duster.  
“I have something for you… a gift. I wanted to give it to you next Saturday but…”  
He took the book.  
“I figured we could talk about it tomorrow and the day after, right?”  
Castiel didn’t move.  
“I’ll leave it on the table ok?”  
He pushed his cart and placed it near the door.  
“I hope you’ll like it. I thought about you when I saw it in the library.”  
He hoped Castiel would look at him but he was still crouched looking at his toes.  
“Alright… bye Cas.” He said opening the door.  
“See ya tomorrow.” And he left the room.  
He pulled his hands in his hair and pressed them on his head: he had to control himself and hold the tears threatening to fall down.  
He took a deep breath, looked at the small window on the door, and he left without a look from Castiel.

Mary was right: if a few minutes for a few days provoked such reactions in him and in Castiel already, they were going straight to the wall. All their emotions were passing through their looks and their behaviors. Silence was not a problem for them and it scared Dean. This deep connection between him and Castiel was scary too, it was so different from the one he had with Sam and yet it was so identical at the same time… he needed to know, he needed answers.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He knocked and entered the office without waiting for an answer. Mary looked up.  
“You’re a doctor so… help me. Tell me why I can’t get this guy out of my head, why is it eating me from the inside, and what the hell is wrong with me?”  
She stared at him a long time detecting his distress and his pain.  
“Sit down, Dean.”  
“No!” he said suddenly “I don’t want to sit down, I want answers!”  
“And you think I have answers to all the questions?”  
“Isn’t it your job?” he almost screamed in despair.  
“Is it becoming attached to someone that scares you so much? Or is it the way it happened?”  
He fell on the armchair.  
“Both I think… since…” he looked down “since Sam’s death…” He sighed “I didn’t want to feel that way anymore but here…”  
“Feel what way, Dean?”  
He bent and put his head on his hands.  
“All of this can’t lead to something good. How two broken human beings like us could possibly win this? I don’t know anything about psychiatry and I’m not talented when it comes to those things.”  
“Those things?”  
“Yeah… social skills you know… human being.” He sighed.  
“What do you think about yourself, Dean?”  
“What I… “ He sighed deeply again very surprised by her question “I always screw everything when it comes to relationships and it’s not today it will change. I have no friends and I never had because I don’t know how friendship works, I have no girlfriend because I am totally unable to give them what they want you know… tenderness and everything… I can’t… it was only for Sam.”  
“What about Castiel?”  
He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.  
“When I see how it ended with Sam…”  
“Are you afraid to lose him too?” Mary asked surprised by her own question.  
Dean laughed ironically.  
“This is ridiculous, I don’t even know him. I never heard about him before starting to work here. The Attic Boy… I didn’t even really hear about it and frankly if I had I probably wouldn’t have cared. I have my hell too. But then all of this happened and he screwed up with my miserable life, just with a look.”  
“Did he screw up with your life? Didn’t he give it a new meaning?”  
Dean tilted his head.  
“Since your brother’s death you try to find a meaning to your life because whether you want to admit it or not, you want to live your life, you fought to keep it.”  
“If I’m alive today it’s only because I promised him.”  
“Dean…” Mary sighed “Don’t use your brother as an excuse to survive, because you don’t even believe it anymore. Does it hurt so much to want to live even if it’s without him?”  
Dean stood up angrily.  
“When he died I died with him!”  
“No… when he died you felt free and this is what’s killing you, Dean.” She corrected.  
“You don’t know me and you don’t know anything about my life… you think reading a file about me written buy a fucking bureaucrat makes you an expert?”  
He stepped forward furious.  
“Since Sam’s death I pray every morning to not wake up the next day, I am NOTHING without Sam, can’t you understand that? Nothing… he was my only reason to live and I lost it. I should’ve followed him.”  
“If he let you the opportunity to do it, you wouldn’t have follow, Dean… The rage eating you is not about yourself, it’s about him because he gave up and he left you alone… he died and he wasn’t as strong as you were. He broke the connection you thought was unbreakable and you’re mad at him for that.”  
“SHUT UP!” Dean yelled taking his head in his hands. “How dare you?” He asked in a broken voice.  
Mary stood up and walked toward him.  
“In that Cage, you’re facing your rage but you don’t want to admit the reality. He wasn’t as strong as you are… I’ve read his file too.”  
He turned around, his green eyes full of anger.  
“Who told you to read his file?” he thundered.  
“Dean you’re in a hospital… I have to know who I deal with when I give a job to someone. It’s not about you or Sam here, it’s about my patients.”  
Dean closed his eyes and tried to contain his anger eating him from the inside. Mary noticed it and she stepped back as she wanted to sit back behind her desk.  
“You can’t blame yourself for the choice your brother made. He would’ve been dead earlier if you weren’t here. You have to admit you can’t save everyone because some people don’t want to be saved.”  
“Out of the mouth of a psychiatrist it’s almost funny.” He said sarcastically.  
“Yes, I’m a psychiatrist, Dean… not a magician. I know I can’t cure everyone in this place, but if I can at least ease their pain it will be a victory for me. The few patients who make it and go out of here to start a new life are my reward. The others are my own failures and it makes me doubt each time I realize I failed, but I keep fighting to avoid it the most I can. I am fighting for them.”

Dean calmed down, the storm was finally over.  
“You really think we have a chance with Cas?” he whispered shyly.  
“I think you are his chance.”  
He frowned and walked to the door. He stopped when he opened it, his hand on the doorknob.  
“Don’t talk to me about my brother the way you did today or you won’t see me anymore. I’m not one of your patients, doctor. And forget about Cas. I will end this next Saturday.”  
He closed the door on a very disappointed Mary.

 

End of chapter IX


	10. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you to take of little bit of your time to read this fic,  
> never forget that behind the words, there is a reality….

 

He pulled his car to the side of the road and stayed here sitting for a few minutes, just watching the horizon. Mary’s words were resonating endlessly in his head. The weight he’s always felt on his shoulder was started to go away.  
“Sam…”

He put his forehead on his hands still hung to the wheel and cried. He cried as he never did before, or at least not since St James Hospital called him to tell him his brother ended his own life. His throat was cut and bleeding deeply, he cut his veins with one precise move. His blood was mixed with water as the nurse found him sitting in the shower. No one would know where he found that piece of glass but who cares? It was too late anyway.  
Dean took his car and he drove very fast to go to his brother. He wasn’t even watching the road he was just driving with his instinct, like it wouldn’t matter if he had an accident and died. Retrospectively he would’ve wished a truck hit his car, so he would lose the control of it and die… be free… and be with him again.  
He parked the car and for a long time he hesitated in front of the gate. The guard walked toward him as he recognized him. Seeing Dean’s pale face and his lost look, he knew. It was almost midnight, only death could make someone come so late in St James.  
The guard smiled when he opened the gate, with this sorry look on his face which made Dean wanting to punch him. He was feeling angry more than sad. He was persuaded this hospital was a place to die for his brother, he was certain he would have been cured if he could’ve been transferred in another place, because it was Sam… it was his brother… Because he couldn’t have leave him alone just like that without an explanation, without giving him the reason of all this madness… because he couldn’t have chosen death instead of him.

Doctor Verlinghen approached with a casual face.  
“Mr. Winchester…”  
“Where is he?” he replied quickly.  
“We brought him to the morgue after I pronounced time of death. We’re waiting for the coroner.”  
Dean tensed: death… morgue… coroner… it should’ve been just a nightmare.  
“I want to see him.”  
“Mr. Winchester… you should wait after the coroner…”  
“NOW!” he interrupted.  
“Alright… but I must warn you…”  
Dean lifted his hand to show him he wanted him to stop talking.  
“Please.”  
“As you wish…”  
During all the way to the morgue Dean remembered his two visits a week, the empty look on Sam’s face, knocked out because of medication and madness.  
At first he came every day but Sam wasn’t making any progress and seeing him like that was making him crazy too, and he had to stay strong for both of them. He couldn’t do it with a sick face on him. He had to work too so he came less, and frankly if it was only to see a Ghost Sam it wasn’t worth it.  
It became another ritual, twice a week, but did Sam and his empty look his scary smile notice he was here? Did he listen to his voice? Doctors said yes but Dean always doubted.  
But he had to be here in this body right? After all it was Sam who tried to hang himself twice, Sam who tried to stab himself once… Sam who wanted to die. Not this quiet and lifeless human being sitting in front of him every Mondays and Thursdays.  
Dean was mad at him for not trying to fight harder and to let go. He hated himself for wishing it would end. Why couldn’t he just be here and be a brother like he always was?

 

They stopped in front of the morgue’s door. Dr Verlinghen searched for the right key because at this time nobody was here to open. They entered, he turned on the light and Dean saw him… his long body on that morbid table, with his feet showing beyond the white sheet. Dean rubbed his face and stayed away.  
“I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll be in the hallway if you need me.”  
Dean didn’t answer. He walked toward the table while Dr Verlinghen went out.  
He needed to look under the sheet… he had to be sure. He knew already because when he touched his fingers showing from under it, it was cold. He held his fingers in his hand and he remembered when they were coming back from school, hand in hand. He remembered holding them when they were facing their father’s anger too.  
He lifted his dead hand and his forearm showed. He took it in his hands too… he was so cold!  
Then he finally pulled the sheet down, revealing his face... his long brown hair, his large forehead, his eyes closed, his white lips… just him. Dean pulled his head back and looked at the ceiling. Sam… his Sam! He started to cry without looking at him, and after a few seconds his eyes fell on his face again… he looked so peaceful. He pulled a hair lock away from his forehead and caressed his cold cheek… death.  
“Son of a bitch…” he whispered between his sobs.  
“You son of a bitch, you did it… you let go… you left me. What am I going to do without you? Why Sammy? Why didn’t you just say something to me? Why did you leave without me?”  
He tried to make him sit down and he succeeded painfully, then he held him in his arms swaying. The nurses had put bandages around his neck to hide the wound, like a scar on the end he chose and hoped for so long.  
There are people who have the strength to survive.  
There are people who have the strength to die.

 

Sam knew the day he lifted his hand to hit his girlfriend… he felt the rage inside him and he knew he would become just like his father, he knew he wouldn’t have Dean’s strength to fight it. Of course he didn’t tell him and he hid the reason why he broke up with Jessica. Luckily for him Dean didn’t want to know, he just wanted his brother to be happy, he was literally living for him. Sam wanted to tell him about the monster rising inside him but he knew he wouldn’t understand.  
How can you live pain and abuse and do it yourself right after?  
This was why Sam was drowning, this is what caused his perdition.  
He really wanted to tell Dean, but he knew he wouldn’t even want to hear it, he wouldn’t admit his little brother could be the same as the monster who destroyed their lives. So he found a new strength: the strength to stop it before it’s too late, to free his brother and himself at the same time.  
When his decision was made once for all he found peace, and when life left his body, something inside him felt like Dean would find the courage to go on and someone to help him. He was not dying for nothing, he was dying for them.

Dean left the morgue with a very pale face and red puffy eyes.  
Three days later he put the funeral urn in the cemetery and never came back.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean got out of his car and went to the open the trunk. He took a deep breath and took the little iron case in it. He put it on the hood and turned the key to open it… the key to his past… their past.  
There was a picture, one of the only pictures of him and Sam together, a school portrait. Sam was about 7 and Dean was 9… his look was already empty.  
He searched in all the stuffs, stuffs which probably would have no importance for anyone but were like gold to him… there was the little Darth Vader and some marbles Mr. Gardini gave them, a dollar coin, a used play cards game, his degree, and a book.  
Mrs. Nora let him choose one in the library and he took “The Happy Prince” by Oscar Wilde without an hesitation. Dean read this kid story to Sam though it was sad.

He closed the case, it was all he had left from his brother. This and a picture of him when he was 16 that he stuck in the back of the view mirror inside his car. Sam was smiling in the picture and when he thought about it, he had to admit he haven’t seen him smile that much. He was smiling less and less as he grew up. Actually Dean was growing up pushing his father’s influence away, but Sam grew up being more and more the prisoner of it. Did he hate himself so much to let the monster win?  
He knew that if Sam hadn’t fall earlier it was only for him, but after he lost his courage and his strength he just couldn’t do it anymore, so he let himself fall in the darkness of his soul and let Dean’s hand go away with a smile… he was free now.  
St Gerry Hall happened and the brick wall Dean built inside his head finally started to fall bit by bit, just because of one broken man. Dean felt a bit better and he realized maybe it wasn’t his fault, Sam made his choice a long time ago. The only guilty persons were and would forever be their parents.  
Maybe the people keeping their eyes shut around their distress were a bit guilty too… Their eyes were full of pity for them but they never moved to help them when they knew.  
Sam probably felt like they all gave up on them and he had only Dean’s hand to hold on to.

 

When he drove back to St Gerry it was night.  
When he closed the door of his room behind him that night, he felt his heart empty and his soul heavy. He wanted nothing, he had no strength and no tears left. This epiphany drained him and at that moment he felt really lonely. He couldn’t even hold on to his brother’s memory anymore.  
Mary was right: he was loving life but he just felt there was no reciprocity.  
He took a very long shower and tried to wipe out the image of Sam with his throat cut under the water. He managed to do it and replaced it by Sam sitting next to him on his bed and listening to him singing or telling stories. The image of burnt innocence… and broken destinies.

When he got out of the shower he stayed a moment in front of the mirror completely naked. He wiped the steam and looked… placing his fingers on his scars. The one on his collar bone graved in his flesh was here because his father pushed him against the glass closet. He was holding him by the collar of his shirt and when he wanted to bring him back to him, a piece of glass cut his collar bone leaving a deep and long scar.  
The scar under his belly button appeared when the wood stick broke on him and one of the parts got stuck in his stomach.  
Each scar reminded him of this past he couldn’t forget, he didn’t want to forget either, it was a part of his life, a part of himself, of who he was today and who he would be in the future. They were him, Dean.  
He turned around, still in front of the mirror, and saw the scars left by the belt of his dad on his back.  
Then he turned, put his hands on the mirror and looked at himself in the eyes. Suddenly the green of his eyes melted with the blue of Castiel’s ones and he knew behind this look he was screaming for help. Behind this look he was saying everything he could.  
Dean slid against the bathroom’s door and fell asleep just like that.  
He jumped when he heard a voice calling him.

“Dean? Are you here? It’s Melvin!” he called and knocked on the door.  
He probably wanted his computer back.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He heard something fell on the floor while she was beating and yelling at him.  
She came in the attic, furious, her face distorted by anger. He didn’t know why but he figured it was his fault. What did he do? He didn’t even see her since the day before when she curled up against him.  
He never knew that beating was due to her own disgust, she just hated herself because she fell for his evil body. For her, he would forever be a sick soul she had to save from evil by any way. Of course she failed one more time.  
She was always saying he had the blue eyes of a God, but the devil took possession of his flesh and she had to get him away. Her madness had no limits and if his eyes weren’t so blue and beautiful she probably would’ve killed him already.  
He was often close to the gates of hell, so close that if he closed his eyes and concentrate he could hear Cerberus screaming. She told him it was just the devil calling for him, and that’s how the neighbor’s dog became his worst nightmare.  
When she stopped beating he dared extending his arm, reaching the tiny book that fell on the floor. She always had this around her neck.

 

When she came back on the evening the expression on her face was very cold. She searched for something on the floor holding her neck in her hand. She stared at him with an angry look but he stayed quiet and didn’t move. After all those years, he learnt he just needed his eyes to talk. He wasn’t talking and wasn’t making any sound except when he was in unbearable pain or when she was stealing pleasure from his body.  
At first she was furious because he wasn’t talking. Sometimes when he was sleeping she could hear him babbling some words but even those ones disappeared after a while. He was just talking in his head… he was just living in his head. The outside world became nothing to him.  
Standing on the tower that became his soul, he was observing himself like you observe a stranger. He separated his body and his soul.  
She finally stood up and left, so he pulled his pillow up and touched the leather front cover of the book hidden under it, and suddenly the trapdoor opened again.  
“I knew it!”  
She almost ran on him and he quickly curled up against the wall hiding his face with his arms. She caught the book and put it on her chest.  
“I forbid you to lay a hand on this book! You heard me you little piece of garbage?”  
She didn’t hit him, she just left without a word. He stayed in his position for a while and he looked at his pillow.

She came back a few minutes later holding the wood stick she loved so much. He looked up, she was making it bounce on her hand. God’s punishment… she was whispering Old Testament’s verses between her teeth.  
It probably was her worst fit of anger, she was literally in a blind rage. She beat him up so long and so hard the wood stick broke, ripping half of his back skin. He passed out but even unconscious she was still hitting so hard blood splashed on her face and her dress.  
Before passing out he heard her talking to God, asking for forgiveness and singing what sounded like an exorcism.  
He only woke up the next morning unable to move, taste of blood in his mouth. He looked up at the shelf… Books…The only freedom he had. He was now completely locked.  
She came back around midday and took care of him without a word and without caring about the fact he was hurting so bad he was moaning his pain out.

That torture night locked his attic forever. He became lifeless and she only found him lost in his silence with his empty eyes. He was staying in the same position all day, crouched down, curled up on his bed or leaning against the wall to stare at the skylight. He was moving only to go to the bathroom and to eat because she was forcing him to. He was washing himself only when she threatened him.  
She had what she wanted: a puppet she could play with when she wanted. It took years but she finally did it: she completely broke him. The church book event was the end of his resistance and the beginning of her freedom. But he would not look at her again… ever. He would never let her sink into his blue eyes again.

As a result she stayed less and less with him and when she was here she was with someone else. She was not talking to him anymore and she was feeding him just because she needed him to survive, because God wanted to, but her toy lost its interest and so did her life.  
She was going to church every day before this event, and after that she was going only on Sunday. She locked in her loneliness step by step too, she wasn’t cleaning her house anymore, she wasn’t taking care of herself anymore, and people even avoided her because her madness appeared on her face. She had scary eyes rolling when she was drowned in her mystic delirium.  
Her death made no one cry, but the Attic Boy would forever make some people ashamed of themselves.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He looked at the book in the reflection of the window for hours. The door opened and Missouri appeared with a plate in her hands.  
When she took the book after putting the plate on the table she saw Castiel shivering. She smiled and put it back.  
“You come to eat, Castiel?”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean didn’t go to the refectory too early this morning, he wanted to avoid Mary. Not that he was mad at her but he just didn’t want to talk about Sam or about himself… or about Castiel.  
He dreamt about him last night: he saw him crouched down and when the floor suddenly opened under his feet he held him by his hand. He saw a smile on his face before he let his hand go, and Sam’s face replaced Castiel’s… and then he woke up in sweat.  
He was thinking about that when he felt her presence.  
“Good morning Missouri.”  
“Good morning Dean. May I?” she asked nodding at the sit in front of him.  
Dean said nothing and she took that as a “yes”.  
“How are you doing? We haven’t talked in a while.”  
“Probably because I have nothing to say.” He said drinking his coffee.  
“You’re in a very good mood as I can see!” she laughed.  
“I’m sorry.” Dean sighed.  
He was glancing at her while buttering his toast.  
“Ok what?” he finally asked.  
“The book in Castiel’s room… is that you?”  
He frowned.  
“Why birds?” she asked.  
“Why not?” he replied.  
“More and more charming…” she wasn’t laughing anymore.  
She put her toast in her hot chocolate and stayed quiet.  
“And?” Dean asked.  
“And what?”  
Dean sighed deeply “Missouri…”  
“Well there’s nothing to add.” She said and saw disappointment on his face.  
“I should’ve known it.” Dean said.  
“Know what, Dean?”  
“Nothing. It won’t matter anymore anyway.”  
He finished his coffee.  
“Next Monday I’ll be back in the West quarter and in six months I’ll be gone.”  
Melvin entered and waved at him so he waved back.  
“You’re not very convincing, darling.” Missouri said.  
He pushed his plate away.  
“I have nothing to offer to him. He’s nuts and I probably am as much as he is. It won’t bring anything good and Mary…” he paused.  
“What about Mary?” Missouri frowned.  
“I asked her if I could stay working in the East quarter for the next six months but she said no. She’s afraid of what could happen after my job here is over”  
He stood up. Missouri looked at him.  
“She’s right… I don’t even know what my life will be tomorrow so in six months…” he took his plate “and I don’t need this now. He probably doesn’t either.”  
“You don’t need what, Dean? Getting attached to him? You will sooner or later you know, if it’s not with Castiel it will be with someone else, but human being is not made to be alone.”  
“I am.”  
“Oh right and you look so happy about it!” she joked.  
“I can’t complain.”  
“But people around you can for sure!”  
He looked vexed and stepped away.  
“Bye!”  
Missouri looked at him leaving and looked at the clock: 7:35 am. She stood up and left leaving her plate on the table.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean was nervous thinking he would have to deal with Castiel. He knew tomorrow it would be over and he already knew he would miss it. And he knew he would also miss those damn blue eyes haunting him.  
He cleaned each room like a robot, he even forgot to greet the few patients he met. He didn’t want to talk or to sing. Then he cleaned the day room feeling Garth’s look on him. When he was over and wanted to leave, he called him.  
“Hi, Dean!”  
“Hi.”  
“Armand gave you the planning?”  
“Yeah, thank you.” He said trying to step away, but Garth was blocking the way.  
“What are you doing? I have no time to play! I still have work to do.”  
“I was in charge of breakfasts this morning.”  
“Right. Good for you.”  
He tried to leave again because he knew where Garth wanted to go with this.  
“He stared at it, but it looks like he’s scared to touch it.”  
“Garth…” Dean sighed.  
Garth stepped away letting Dean free to go.  
“Thank you.” He said opening the door.  
“I think you’re the one who has to do the first move!”  
Dean didn’t answer, closed the door and left.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He hesitated in front of room 14 and finally looked inside.  
“A real statue.” He said typing the code.  
He felt nervousness growing when he stepped in.  
“Hi, Cas.” He tried to sound as casual as he could.  
He saw him reacting and went to the bathroom to avoid him. He glanced at the table and saw the book on it.  
He felt his silent call again, as he was cleaning the bathroom, and he finally turned around seeing he was here looking at him. He was just here observing Dean cleaning the room. There was no distress, no pain and no fear, just something they shared, and Dean couldn’t help but smiled.  
“You don’t look so bad today.” He said standing up.  
Castiel stepped back a little but didn’t break the eyes connection.  
“You don’t like my gift?” Dean asked looking at the table.  
He noticed Castiel’s body tensing but he was still looking at him. Dean pushed his cart to the room, Castiel stepped back and went to his precious window but he was still facing him, observing every move he made which made Dean feel uncomfortable. He thought he preferred when Castiel wasn’t staring at him like that.  
He cleaned the floor and when he was done Castiel was back in his usual position near the window. It was almost a relief.  
“Dude you really don’t know what you want” he shrugged.  
He took his cleaning spray, his rag, he walked to the table and then, without knowing exactly why, he sat down and took the book. He saw Castiel moving, he was observing him in the window’s reflection.

“Come here.” Dean said showing the chair.  
Castiel didn’t move. Dean made himself comfortable in front of that empty chair.  
“Cas, please… come and sit down on the chair. Come on…” he insisted in a soft voice.  
He knew Castiel was hesitant he met his eyes on the reflection.  
“I’m still here today and I will be here tomorrow… and then I won’t be able to come anymore. You understand what it means right?”  
Castiel turned a bit.  
“It’s just a book dude… nothing more. It won’t eat you.” He said begging him with his eyes “come here and sit down.”  
He finally accepted the offer and sat down on the chair facing Dean, but of course he was looking at the window.  
Dean put the book on the table.  
“It’s for you. Open it.”  
Dean insisted sliding it near Castiel who was still not moving or looking.  
Dean lost his patience and tried the impossible: he extended his hand very slowly and placed a finger under his chin. Castiel jumped and turned quickly looking at Dean with his eyes full of terror, and he gripped his pants.  
Dean didn’t want to give up even if it was hard, he didn’t move his finger away and lifted his head a little. He smiled at him and tried to reassure him when he felt he was sinking in his chair ready to run away.  
“Calm down Cas… it’s just me.”  
He didn’t know how much time they stayed like that looking at each other but he didn’t care, he just wanted Castiel to react. Slowly he felt him getting more relaxed and the terror in his eyes turned into suspicion only.  
Dean took the book and held it out to Castiel.  
“This book is for you, Cas. I thought about it when I saw your drawings on the wall… there.” He confessed and looked down a few seconds.  
“Humor me… take it.”  
He only read confusion in his eyes.  
“Take it.”  
His patience was tested here: Castiel didn’t want to move, but it was already a big step he just did, accepting this close contact with Dean who started to wonder if he didn’t ask too much from him. Too much and too fast maybe… but he had so little time!  
“Ok…” he said disappointed.  
He put the book in front of Castiel and stood up. Castiel was still frozen in his chair.  
Dean walked away and put his spray and his rag in the cart.  
“I’ll try to stay longer tomorrow of you want…”  
He heard the noise of the chair moving and froze. When he found the courage, he turned around and saw Castiel was standing at the window and the book was still on the table.  
Dean sighed.  
“As you wish…” he said going to the door.  
He walked out of the room and didn’t look back.  
Tomorrow would be their last day.

 

End of chapter 10


	11. The decision

His hands crossed behind his neck, lying on his bed, Dean was staring at the ceiling… he couldn’t sleep. He looked at his nightstand and sighed. A second later he was sitting in his bed, leaning on his elbows with his head in his hand.  
It all depended on him now… It was his decision.  
He suddenly doubted about what was so obvious a few days ago.

 

Missouri entered room 14 to serve breakfast. The subtle lemon smell in it let her know Dean was here a few minutes ago. She smiled and looked at Castiel who was still standing near the window as always.  
She put the plate on the table and noticed the book was gone. She looked quickly around her in the room but didn’t find it… it was really gone. She looked at the window’s reflection but Castiel wasn’t looking so she sat, a little sad and disappointed.  
“One simple move could have changed something, you know…” she whispered.  
He didn’t react.  
“Come here and eat, Castiel.” She said trying to cover up the disappointment in her voice in vain.  
During all the time he ate, he didn’t look at her once. She thought about it and noticed she had no particular contact with Cas since…  
She frowned and leaned her head on the wall facing Castiel.  
“… since he’s in charge of East quarter and he’s taking care of you…” she thought out loud.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean sat on the front steps as he liked to do after all his shifts. It was a good way for him to evacuate the stress. He found coffee when he walked by the kitchen, smiling at Suzanne who was there reading a magazine and drinking her tea. She had no time to reply that he was already gone.  
He ran into Missouri in the lobby.  
“Dean can I talk to you a few minutes?”  
He sighed but stopped to listen what she had to say.  
“What?”  
“Did something go wrong with Castiel this morning?” she asked noticing Dean’s bad mood.  
He tilted his head and looked up to her.  
“…Pardon?” he said surprised.  
“The book… you took it back from him, right? Why? What happened? I need to know, nothing personal but we all need to understand his reactions if we want to help and…”  
“I did not take anything back.” He interrupted her harshly. “When I give something I never take it back even if the one I give it to seems to don’t give a shit about it.”  
Dean thought he saw a tiny smile on Missouri’s face at that moment.  
“Except you and me, nobody came in his room.”  
“Yes so?”  
She looked at him in the eyes.  
“It means it’s him…”  
“Or a nurse passing by.” Dean objected, not wanting to feel any hope.  
“I asked everyone… Armand just checked the room by the window, nothing more.”  
“Well… at least now you know what gift you’ll buy him for Christmas.” Dean said ironically.  
He stepped away and let Missouri here, completely dazed.  
Dean wanted to scream his happiness and his frustration at the same time. He was so close and tomorrow it would be over!

 

His eyes on his coffee, he jumped when his phone rang… Gaby.  
He put his mug on the stair and stood up to take the call.  
“Hey Gab!”  
“Hi Dean! Still content in the crazy hospital?” he joked.  
“I’m ok.” Dean replied without playing his game.  
“I have the time of the fight and I know who your opponent is. You wanna know?”  
“Should I?” he smiled.  
“Billy Joe.”  
“The one-eyed Billy Joe?”  
“Yep, himself! Back after five months out, he must be in pretty good shape you’ll have to be careful!”  
Dean was staring at the third floor without even noticing it.  
“Dean? Are you still here? Have you heard what I said?”  
“I heard, Gab.”  
“And that’s all?”  
“Well I’m not the one who blinded him one eye right?”  
“Sure, not really… but the guy in the audience wouldn’t have if you haven’t made him lose 5000$ winning against him. He could be pissed at you and bite for that.”  
“I’ll have to bite harder then. And I’ll pray for him to not turn completely blind.”  
He heard Gaby laughing on the phone.  
“That’s my Rage! But still… be careful, he’s bigger now. I heard he trained and now he breaks men like you’d break wood.”  
“Good for him. Where will we fight?”  
“In an abandoned motel, four hours from here.”  
“Damn! Four hours?” he complained.  
“Meet me at my apartment and we’ll drive you ok? You can sleep in the car that way.”  
“Good. Have you thought about my little favor?”  
“Yeah Melvin is on the list don’t worry. I’ll email you the address, you can give it to him. It will start at 9 pm.”  
“Ok. Thank you Gab.”  
“I’ll wait for you at 2 pm is that ok for you?”  
“Yes. I have nothing planned anyway.”  
“See you tomorrow then.”  
“See ya Gab.”  
“Bye… and take care of yourself.” Then he hung up.

 

Dean stayed here with his phone in his hands, still looking at the third floor. He couldn’t see Castiel but he knew he was at the window observing him.  
After a few seconds he put his phone back in his pocket and sat back on the stair with his coffee. He needed to clear his head if he wanted to be ready for tomorrow. Billy Joe was a very serious opponent and Gaby was right about one thing: he would be mad at him even if he wasn’t directly responsible for the loss of his eye. He had five months to ponder his revenge and Dean had to admit he lost a bit of that rage he used to fight in the Cage.  
When he let Sam go he lost a part of his dad’s influence and the rage was gone with it. He needed to find something else to get it back. It was just sleeping inside him and he needed it to win.

He felt someone’s presence behind him.  
“I don’t want to talk now, Missouri.”  
“Talk about what, Dean?”  
He turned around surprised, Mary was looking at him tenderly. He stood up.  
“Mary?” he said a bit suspicious.  
“Can I talk to you? It won’t be long.”  
“Man this is the talking day…” Dean joked sitting back.  
She gripped her skirt and sat with him.  
“I’ve been thinking a lot about our last talk.”  
He took a sip of his coffee, staring at his Impala parked in the alley. When she noticed he would stay quiet she searched her pocket and got a badge out of it, turning it nervously between her fingers.  
“Let’s make a deal, Dean… you take it or you leave it.”  
“I don’t…”  
“Wait for me to explain at least!” she interrupted him. “What I’m about to do is totally the opposite I should do, it goes against all my principles. I don’t know where it will lead but Missouri is right: Castiel deserve a chance, even if it’s a tiny one. I love him very much, as I love a lot of my patients here. In his eyes you can see…”  
She couldn’t find the right words and stared at the badge to regain her composure.  
“… the physical abuse and more… the psychological abuse led him to a whole new word he created. It helped him surviving all those years of hell, but it also made him totally unable to deal with reality.”  
She pulled a hair lock away on her back.  
“Except Missouri, nobody here succeeded at getting reactions from him, and he never accepted any contact… until you arrived in his life.”  
She sighed deeply. He turned to look at her and met her eyes.  
“You did in a few days what Missouri did in months: you made him conscious of the real word. He observes you for hours… and he probably is right now. He looks at you and he sees you, and more important: you saw the human being first, not the patient… you just see him as he is. I think our mistake with such a critical case, this mystery he was and still is, was to forget to look at him beyond the madness he reflects. I have to admit it was my fault first.”  
She looked away and stared at the badge.  
“You managed to touch him with your heavy past reflecting on your face… or should I say you both managed to.”  
Dean smiled.  
“I have something to propose and I want you to think about it before you give me an answer.”  
He interrogated her with his eyes.  
“This is a visitor badge. You’ll have to show it each time you’ll go to the East quarter, and the nurse in charge will give you or not the authorization to enter.”  
She saw Dean’s hands gripping his mug tighter.  
“Visits are planned every day of the week between 3 pm and 5 pm, and the weekend between 3 pm and 6.30 pm. You’ll have to choose three or four random days a week and you won’t say which ones to Castiel. He will know you’ll come but he won’t know when exactly.”  
Dean stayed quiet.  
“You’ll have to inform me personally, or through Garth or Missouri, about every significant change in Castiel’s behavior.”  
She saw Dean tensing.  
“Are you asking me to spy on him?”  
“This is a psychiatric hospital, Dean. We’re here to cure people in case you didn’t notice. I’m not asking you to spy on him as you say, nor to report everything you share, that’s not my point and this is private. But you have to understand your connection with him is the only chance we have to try to get him out of the silence and the pain he’s locked in.”  
Dean stood up and put his coffee on the stair. He walked a few steps and stopped turning his back to her.  
“If I understand well, you’re giving me the authorization to see him but under some conditions?”  
“Yes. Take it or leave it as I said before.”  
“I can’t accept this… I would feel like I betray him, he will notice it and he will be locked forever. Thank you but no. I would end this today rather than risking losing him forever, because as you said, I see him as a human being.”  
He turned to face her.  
“What you’re asking me to do now is not human.”  
She stood up with an unreadable expression on her face.  
“He’s suffering, Dean… and we can’t do anything to help. You think it’s more human to leave him in his pain like that?”  
“This was what you thought yesterday right?” Dean said harshly “You’re the one who said he was better alone than with a guy like me who could abandon him in six months… you’re the one who didn’t trust us!” Dean almost screamed.  
“Us?” Mary pointed out.  
Dean froze.  
“We have to be at least two people to make it and win this… this is what this connection is all about, but you can’t understand that, you don’t know what it is to suffer and to be alone, to have nobody to talk about it. You don’t know what it is to live hell and to wish for heaven. Your eyes betray you, they’re shining with happiness. People don’t see because they don’t want to see. People know but they stay quiet. That detachment killed my brother but I won’t let it kill Cas you hear me? If I betray him he will die and I can’t survive knowing this!” Dean yelled.  
A long and heavy silence settled.  
“It is precisely because I don’t want to be a part of this detachment that I’m asking for your help, Dean.”  
She stood up and handed him the badge.  
“I’ll keep my conditions. Take time to think about it. Don’t answer now being angry, we’ll talk about it next Monday. If you’re not decided on Monday, just know I’ll keep my proposition open, but if you don’t make a choice the badge won’t be necessary.”  
He was standing here refusing to take the badge. She put it on the first step.  
“Think about him before you think about both of you.”  
She climbed the last stairs and disappeared inside. Dean stayed a few minutes not moving, trying to take control of his emotions. He finally stepped forward, took the badge and read it: “Visitor: Winchester; Dean. Delivered by Dr Mary Campbell.”  
He put it in his back jean’s pocket, took his coffee and looked up to the third floor. He smiled and came back inside.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean left without a look. Castiel turned around and touched his chin with his fingertips. He looked at the table and the book on it.  
“This is for you, Castiel.” The words resonated in his head.  
He stepped forward and sat down, hands on his knees. He stared at the cover… some birds’ flight shadow on the moon. He tilted his head, lifted his hand near the table and stopped when it was at the edge of it. He put his fingers on it and didn’t dare moving further.  
He remembered the beating, the pain and the screams. It was louder than his inner voice telling him to touch it. He looked at the door: nobody.  
He slowly and carefully slid his fingers on the table until they were touching the book cover. He laid his hand on it and closed his eyes caressing it slowly with his thumb.  
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

The skylight and the birds flying above his prison… freedom. He was flying with them in the huge blue shy, closing his eyes and listening to their singing. They were leaving every autumn, and were coming back every spring, one other reason to like these seasons even more.  
Only a few chickadees and blackbirds were faithful to his loneliness.  
One morning he was woken up by a high scream. Lying on the floor in his old blanket full of holes, he looked around and saw it: a baby bird. He probably fell from his nest. Chickadees were living in his kingdom, he was hearing them singing, fighting or flying but he never saw them. They were living in the same prison, but not on the same side of the gate.  
He crawled and put his face on his hands, observing the tiny featherless creature struggling on the floor. He noticed it was bleeding and its screams were weaker and weaker… he was dying because of the fall. He looked at it in the eyes when it died, he came closer and covered it with his hand in a protective reflex. He wanted to guide him toward death.

She arrived in the attic and saw him on the floor. She put the breakfast on the table and his body tensed.  
“What the…”  
She came closer and crushed the tiny bird under her foot. He shut his eyes tight, horrified in front on the bird’s splashed body sticking at her shoe.  
“Don’t you dare do that again. You hear me?”  
She crouched down and lifted his chin.  
“Those creatures steal souls… stay away from them!” she said in a soft tone but he perceived her anger anyway.  
She stood up, took the napkin in the plate and wrapped the bird in it before putting it in her apron’s pocket.  
“Come to eat now. Come on get up!” she ordered.  
He looked at her apron the whole time, picturing the lifeless crunched body in the pocket.  
“Soul thieves…” he smiled internally. He found the way to escape hell.  
He adored those creatures as they were the symbol of freedom. He was closing his eyes and put his soul on their wings for them to fly away with it.  
This was what saved him. He didn’t need to go out of that attic, they were protecting him from the outside world. She and her companion were the only images he had from the real world. He was free inside those walls in his own way.

 

But since a few months, since he saw a bit of the outside world through this man’s eyes, the noises, the smell, those walls started to fall down piece by piece. Another form of fear came inside him: the fear of the unknown.  
The hospital was another prison to him. He was tied to the bed as he was in his attic, trapped in the nurse’s look that was blinding him with her weird tool. He lived it as a whole new hell, maybe worse than the previous one because he couldn’t find his place. In this world he may not have any place at all…  
The doctors observed him like he was a mystery. He found in their look the same interest he had when he was observing spiders building their webs. They were admiring the web forgetting there was a tiny insect trapped in it.  
And then she arrived with her long hair falling on her shoulders. He felt her staring at him but refused to meet her eyes. She was looking at the trapped insect… the hurt creature.  
Since that day she wouldn’t stop trying to free him from the web around him, but he was feeling protected in his web even if it was painful. He knew his prison so well, he knew every detail of it. He built it for years and didn’t want to destroy it to be trapped in another unknown one.  
But he caught that weird black skinned woman’s eyes even if she was scary the first time he saw her. She almost looked like the devil he saw in one of her books. Missouri smiled and he let go, he was feeling things deeper than anyone else. He knew she was the hidden side of the outside world.  
He let his eyes looking at her… it was a very particular look, and it was a way for him to say “I’m alive” behind his walls. He was still hiding though.

And then Dean arrived and something in him broke. Since their first look he knew Dean had found the key to his prison, but the walls were so high and so strong! He didn’t know how to go out, and he didn’t even know if he wanted to.  
The outside world… the unknown… and that woman watching the door even if she was dead. Would he know how to get rid of her? And outside… would it look like the blue sky of his prison or would it look like the trapdoor of his hell?

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He looked down at the book. He knew when he opened it he was crossing a line, stepping in the unknown. His whole body was shaking and he felt something wet in his pants. He was nauseous and dizzy… he was just full of terror.  
He saw a picture of a black bird, his feathers reflecting the moon light. Castiel opened the book and fate brought him a crow, messenger of Gods and souls keeper… a place between hell and earth.  
His face lightened and he felt a strange warmth in his eyes: a single tear fell down his cheek. He was staring at the bird which was staring back at him.  
He suddenly closed the book, he was losing control. He tilted his head and started swaying.  
A crack appeared on one of his walls… a nameless pain. He stood up and hid the book under his pillow. He walked toward the window and saw him, meeting his gaze. He observed him… and her. He stole his smile and crouched down to lean against the wall, his head in his knees.  
He slept in his bed that night, holding the book from under his pillow. He dreamt about a birds’ flight near the moon, and about a green eyed crow.

Dean took the badge in his hand… he wouldn’t betray him… not like that.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He ate half of his breakfast, he had a knot in his stomach. He hadn’t slept all night even after his decision was made. He wasn’t free, he was nervous because this decision, they would both make it.  
He climbed the stairs to the third floor for the last time with his cart. Phil would come back on Monday and Dean wondered why he couldn’t work on the weekend too. At least he would have one more day in the East quarter, to see Liliana one last time, to make his excuses a hundredth time to Charles who was still running from him like he had plague, to avoid Edward as well as he always did after their one and only meeting, and to be with Castiel one last time because after that he probably wouldn’t see him anymore.

He sighed opening the first gate and started his last shift. He took time to say goodbye to every patients he met. He checked at the schedule to see who would be present in the room this time… except for Edward who painted all his room’s walls with poop. Nice end for a week!  
He sang for everyone that day, some blues songs in a desperate way hanging to his last hope.  
When he arrived in front of room 14 he took the badge Mary gave him out of his pocket, looked at the small window and smiled between sadness and tenderness. He put it back in his pocket and typed the code to enter.

“Hi Cas!”  
He didn’t react but Dean didn’t care. He walked in the bathroom and cleaned quickly to not lose any time. When he turned around after he was finished, Castiel was not here. He looked in the room and noticed he hadn’t moved from the window. He felt sad and stepped in the room looking at the window’s reflection but Castiel seemed to be somewhere else. Did he have to do that on their last day together?  
He quickly cleaned the room’s floor and when he was done he stepped toward Castiel to lean near the window next to him. He looked at the same direction he was staring at… nothing.  
A long moment of silence settled. There was absolutely no noise except the sound of their breathing. Then Dean broke it:  
“Cas I need to talk to you. I don’t know if you’ll understand but… I have no other option. I need to know.”  
He looked at Castiel who was now staring down at the window’s edge. He took the badge out and showed it to him.  
“This is a badge I should use to come to see you. Mary gave it to me and she said I could visit you… you understand?” he asked softly still facing him.  
“I will be able to come back here” he said pointing the place with his finger.  
“But there is a condition…” he looked outside “I would have to betray us…” he whispered.  
“She wants to help you like everyone else here. She knows…” he searched for the right words “She knows about our… connection.”  
He laughed inside… it sounded so awkward, but he needed simple words to make Castiel understand what he was asking. Has he ever taken a single decision in his life? That wasn’t certain.  
He showed the badge again.  
“With this I can come to see you but I will have to tell her how you’re doing and I will have to tell her all about our visits, do you understand what I mean? I don’t want you to think I will come only for that… I will come only for you, because I want to see you, because I like your silences more than words, and because we have something… different. But I need you to let me know you’re ok with it, Cas.”  
He begged him with his eyes.  
“You need to do something… I need it… I need to know. We have to take this decision together, you understand?” he insisted, but Castiel didn’t react.  
“Shit, Cas! You’re not making things easier, you know that?”  
He stepped away and arranged his cart.  
“Ok… as you want. I’m going to give the badge back to Mary.” He said in a broken voice. He was sad, disappointed and angry at them.  
He had not enough time, how could Castiel possibly understand what was going on? Did he get Dean wouldn’t come back anymore? How to communicate with someone so closed for so long? He could read things in his looks, but not everything!  
He needed more time to find a way to communicate but they didn’t give them any opportunity to find it. All of this had been such a waste of time! He clenched his cart tight to avoid screaming his frustration.  
He was about to leave when he heard Castiel move. He hesitated to turn around, and when he did Castiel was not here as he wished. He caught sight of his shadow near the bed and looked: he was holding the book in his hand.  
Castiel slowly looked up to find Dean’s eyes.  
“Damn it Cas…” he felt tears in his eyes.

 

He felt distress in Dean’s voice. He was always feeling people’s pain. He observed Dean without him to notice because he was staring at his badge. It looked like the ones on Missouri and Garth’s jacket, except it wasn’t the same color.  
He was using simple words, Castiel knew that, but he couldn’t understand… what did “decision” mean?  
“Together”… he knew that word’s meaning… Dean and him.  
“Betray”… whatever that word meant he didn’t like the negativity he felt in Dean’s voice when he pronounced it.  
He understood he was about to leave too, and he had to hold him back but didn’t know how and then… the book!  
He went to his bed and lifted his pillow hoping he would understand, because he didn’t know how to say it with words anymore. He couldn’t show what he felt either because he didn’t even understand all of these new emotions.  
The book…  
He looked up to meet Dean’s eyes… he understood.  
Castiel screamed his “Don’t leave me!” with just a move but it meant more than words.

 

Dean rubbed his neck nervously trying to hold his tears back.  
“Good.” That’s all he managed to say. One more word and he would let go.  
“See you on Monday then?” he said smiling.  
Castiel tilted his head.  
“See you soon” he said remembering Mary’s advice on his visit’s days… don’t tell him, don’t leave him in certitude but in expectation, to not disappoint him when he couldn’t come. But did Castiel have notion of days or time?  
He smiled.  
“Bye Cas.”

Dean understood and would not leave him.  
He wouldn’t be alone anymore… one more crack in his wall and he saw the light of his eyes through it. Castiel wanted to smile but he wouldn’t dare… he forgot how to do it anyway, it’s been a while since he smiled and he never did it much.  
Fear was still too big and was taking too much place, almost all of the place.

Dean left but took his time. He gave him one last look for today, Castiel was still standing at the same spot, the book in his hands, looking to the future.  
He closed the door and leaned against it. The decision was made and Castiel made it for him… for them.  
He turned and looked inside. Castiel was still here but his look was empty. He was gone again.

 

End of chapter XI

 


	12. Farewell

Dean opened his eyes and saw the ceiling, his look was blurred and the pain was pulsing in his head. He lifted his hand to his right eyebrow and frowned when he felt he had a bandage. He tried to move but moaned his pain out.  
The door opened and footsteps came closer. Gaby was here with a shy smile lost in his beard.  
“Hi…”  
Then Dean remembered: The Cage… Billy Joe…his head hitting the bars with an immeasurable strength… screams resonating and then… a black hole.  
“I’m sorry Gaby.” He whispered leaning his arm on his eyes.  
Gaby took a chair and sat next to him.  
“What happened, Dean?”  
“I lost. It’s not the first time and it probably won’t be the last.”  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
Dean tried to sit but he was unable to do so, his whole body was hurting. Gaby stood up and helped him. He sat against the wall and Gaby put a pillow behind his back. Dean tried to breathe deeply.  
“Are you ok?”  
“No. I have the feeling I ran into a high speed train.” He said closing his eyes.  
“Doctor said nothing is broken, but you’ll stay here tonight, the impact on your head was violent and I don’t want to take any risk.”  
Dean thanked him with a smile while he was sitting back on his chair.  
“So?”  
“So What?”  
“Dean, please… don’t play that game with me ok?”  
“I lost a fight, Gaby… this is not the end of the world.”  
“I lost almost 8000$ on this one…”  
“And you won double with Bitchie” he added quickly.  
“That’s not the problem.”  
Dean opened his eyes and met Gaby’s.  
“You lost your rage.” He stated.  
Dean looked down at his injured hands.  
“I know.” He whispered.  
“What happened then? I barely recognized you. Is it your job at the crazies’ hospital that disturbs you that much?”  
He looked up and Gaby tried to search for a reason in his eyes but he found only silence for a few seconds.  
“I think I finally said farewell.”  
“To who? Your brother?”  
Dean nodded.  
“Remind me to stop my future fighters from working with crazy people… at least I won’t lose my best ones.”  
“You didn’t lose me, Gaby. I never said I will stop fighting.”  
“Yes you already did.”  
Dean tilted his head confused.  
“The rage inside you helped you fighting, but you don’t like the cage, you never have. You just needed something to evacuate all of this. I’ve known those things for a long time, I know when someone has to stop fighting. Guys like Jet love it, but you don’t… you’ve never really been one of us. Like I said it was just a way to evacuate your anger and I knew it as soon as I met you.”  
“You knew what?”  
“That you wouldn’t stay.”  
He gave him a sad smile.  
“I just wished…” he paused and looked down.  
“What, Gaby?”  
“Nothing.”  
He stood up.  
“I’ll bring you something to eat. Just rest.”  
He was about to leave.  
“Gaby?”  
He turned around.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be. It’s better if it ends like that rather than with your death on my hands. I like you, you know… I would’ve hate seeing you in a coffin or a wheelchair.” He tried to sound like he was joking.  
“I will never be able to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Gaby.”  
“You already did.” He said showing him money.  
He opened the door.  
“We’ll still see each other right?” Dean worried.  
“You know where I live” he replied with a wink.  
“Thanks” Dean whispered.

 

The door closed and the silence settled, bringing memories of the screams, the blows and the fights. He remembered Melvin’s look too… he saw his distorted face the whole night. He was shocked about the fever of the audience, about their screams and their unhealthy exaltation, he was also disgusted with all the blood and the ripped skin, he went to the back of the room when he felt sweat and blood splashing around him.  
He thought he would be caught in the global frenzy of the place but it was all the opposite, he felt like it wasn’t his place in this violent environment. Dean’s defeat added a bitter taste on his disgust. He left before the last fight between The Hill and Monster, he drove back to St Gerry and didn’t sleep that night.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean slept during the whole way, curled up in the back of the car. He was feeling empty, he wasn’t nervous or stressed, he had no anger. Something in him broke… or maybe something in him healed.  
The motel was away from the town and the fights would take place in the parking lot. The rooms would be used as locker rooms and would protect the Cage placed behind with their walls. It was far enough from the town and the main road so no one could see any light or hear any noise. Nobody was coming in that part of the town anyway.

 

When Dean got out of the car he saw The Hill who greeted him with a nod, so he nodded back. He’s never fought with him and he hoped he would never have to. Not that he was scared, Dean wasn’t scared of anyone, but he was very impressive because he was big but so calm and peaceful at the same time. He would never let his emotions show on his face, no anger, no rage, it was like he was fighting for the fun. All the fighters were respecting him because he was respecting them too.  
Dean took his bag in the trunk, Gaby was looking at him with a very suspicious look. Bibi saw some couple she knew so she went to greet them, walking with confidence with her very high heels on the damaged ground. Gaby had to admit she was very classy.  
“Is everything ok?” he asked Dean.  
“yep.”  
“Are you sure about that?”  
“Why are you asking me?” Dean said closing the trunk.  
“I don’t know… you seem different.”  
“That’s because I’m always different.”  
Gaby pouted.  
“Follow me.”  
They entered a very old room but at least there was electricity and the mattress didn’t look so bad. Dean threw his bag on the bed near the window.  
“How much time left?”  
Gaby checked his watch.  
“Two hours I guess. I’ll leave you alone, I need to see if everything is ok with Bitchie. I’ll be back in a few. Get ready.”  
“I thought she was in Vegas?” he said sitting on the bed.  
“Seems like she burnt her wings” he winked and left the room.  
Dean laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, his hands behind his neck. He felt his heart pounding when he saw Sam’s smiling face in a humidity spot.  
“Sammy…” he whispered.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Shirtless, black boxer and bandaged hands, Dean was looking Bitchie fighting in the Cage. She was a tall brown haired woman with a very dark look on her face, full of anger. He talked to her once when he was at Gaby’s and realized they almost had the same childhood. Incest was part of her life as violence was part of Dean’s. The Cage was bringing only misery.  
Bitchie was tall but she seemed even taller because she had very large shoulders too, without hiding her feminine traits. She was always fighting with her nails polished and her face full of makeup. Dean had to admit she was attractive in her own way. She was also the oldest fighter of Gaby: almost five years fighting… One of the only women fighting men and winning.  
Dean liked her, so when he saw her falling on the ground he jumped off his sit and ran near the Cage. She looked up at him and winked. She wiped the blood out of her lip and without Dean to realize it, she knocked her male opponent out with just a kick in the face.  
Gaby won 20000$ thanks to this fight. Bitchie and Dean were the ones who brought the most money. She got out of the Cage under the audience screams and patted Dean’s shoulder on the way. She stared at him and lost her smile.  
“Be careful.” She said to him.  
She couldn’t find the sparkle in his eyes anymore, and Dean felt it probably would be his last fight.

Billy Joe entered on the right, Dean was already in the Cage. Gaby was right: he was bigger and more confident. He was not the skinny fighter Dean fought against in the past. He looked at Dean with one brown eye and one all white, and he lifted his arms making the audience scream even more.  
He turned to face Dean and banged both of his fists together lifting his chin full of pride.  
The referee stepped forward, made them greet and stepped back.  
Billy Joe ran head first toward Dean who avoided him and hit him on his ribs just in time. He straightened up smiling.  
Gaby, sitting with Bibi and Melvin, had a worried face. He was feeling something was wrong with Dean because his punch lacked rage.  
Dean didn’t want to hit first, he let his opponent come to him. Billy Joe faked a front attack so when Dean wanted to avoid the front punch, his opponent crouched down and slid hitting Dean in his hip, surprising him.  
Within five months, Billy Joe had the time to change the way he fought, he was faster and stronger. He replaced his missing eye by more agility and more strength.  
Dean fell on one knee but had time to step away before his opponent hit him on his shoulder. He kicked him right in his calf making him frown only, his leg just shook a little. Billy Joe turned around quickly and kicked Dean on his throat making him fall and cough. He stepped back and Billy Joe took this occasion to rush on him and hit him on his face. Dean protected himself with his forearms as well as he could and finally found the strength to catch him by his neck forcing him to bend and then he kicked him on his hip.

Both men were out of breath and they started circling the Cage staring at each other.  
When the audience yelled, Billy Joe ran into Dean furious and he couldn’t avoid him. He lifted Dean off the ground and threw him on the Cage’s bars, then he hit him on his ribs without leaving him any rest.  
Gaby suddenly stood up, Melvin was terrorized, Bibi was exulting… no matter who was fighting she loved sweat and blood.  
In a last effort, Dean hit his opponent on his collar bone which made him step back. Dean took this opportunity and rushed toward him pining him to the ground. This was usually when he started hitting with all his rage but this time, he saw his reflection in Billy Joe’s fake eye. He wasn’t under rage’s influence, he should’ve hit him in the face but he hesitated a second, and Billy Joe quickly straightened up and hit him with his head, opening his eyebrow.  
He caught his ankles and Dean fell on his back. He straightened up but the blood in his eye was blurring his look. He managed to catch his arm, avoiding his punch at the same time, but Billy Joe caught his neck and kicked him on his lower abdomen.  
Dean let him go and he lifted him off the ground again, throwing him on the Cage’s bars one more time. His head hit them so hard his head protection flew.  
Billy Joe gripped his hair, Dean tried to straighten up but his opponent hit his head on the bars.  
The audience was screaming so loud, they wanted more. It looked like antic Rome games in the 21th century… the madness of humanity.  
He saw Gaby standing up in slow-motion… he heard the screams resonating and then nothing… the black hole.  
When Dean opened his eyes on his room he searched the ceiling but Sam’s face was gone. There was a man checking on him, probably a doctor, and then he fell in that black hole again.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Castiel was staring at his room’s ceiling cracks, stretched out on his bed, his body straight and his hands on his belly holding the book. The moon was lightening the room because he never wanted to close the curtains, he didn’t want to feel locked and needed to see the outside. At least when he would woke up because of a nightmare he would see this piece of freedom, this view of the outside world he was running from. The night was pushing him deep in the dark, but the outside light, as weak as it could be, was an exit.  
He closed his eyes and fell asleep. He didn’t dream of green-eyed crow this time, he dreamt about her cold look.  
He woke up in sweat, panic on his face and desire threatening on his crotch. He curled up like a child holding the book tight against his chest, turning his face to the window.  
He wanted it to stop, he wanted to be the little bird under her shoe so his pain would go away forever. He looked down at the book and opened it randomly on a parrot picture with bright colors. He tilted his head and leaned his fingers on the feathers, red like blood and blue like the day sky.  
He shut it and got lost in his prison, the one where crows and parrots were now flying with blackbirds and chickadees, the one he liked sinking in even if he was afraid to never be able to get out.  
He put the book under his pillow and fell asleep.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean woke up with a bad headache. Gaby put painkillers on his nightstand, he took two and laid back down the time it would stop.  
When he left the room he saw Gaby serving breakfast to Bibi wearing only boxer and sport-bra. She obviously went jogging.  
“Hey Rage!” she greeted drinking her juice.  
“Hi Bibi. You run on Sunday?” he asked stepping near the table.  
She nodded with a smile.  
“How are you feeling?” Gaby asked offering a sit.  
“Better.”  
“I’ll leave you two alone” Bibi said.  
She smiled at Dean, kissed Gaby and left the room quietly. Gaby opened the fridge and took orange juice for Dean who winced in pain when he leaned his back on the chair.  
“So… can you tell me where Rage left?”  
Dean looked up surprised.  
“Why this sudden farewell?”  
“It’s not sudden, Gaby… I just needed to accept it, that’s all.”  
“Right…” he said waving.  
Dean drank his juice in silence.  
“What are you going to do now?”  
“You mean beside the Cage?”  
“Forget about the Cage, Dean. There is no Cage for you anymore.”  
Dean closed his eyes, his head was still pounding.  
“I’m talking about your future.”  
He leaned on his elbows.  
“I have more than four months to think about it.”  
“You wanna go back there?”  
“Of course! First I have no choice and second I’ve got…” he paused.  
“It a job, Gaby. I get paid for it, not too bad, and we never know… maybe I could stay longer.”  
“Oh really?” Gaby smiled… “What’s her name?”  
“What?” Dean looked up.  
“Well… the reason why you care about this place so much… what’s her name?”  
“There’s no one! I just like the job.”  
“Cleaning people shit… allow me to say you can find better than that!”  
“That’s not about that, Gaby. I like the place, I like what they try to do with these lost patients…”  
“You’re not projecting you and your brother between those walls right?”  
“I thought about it but no.”  
“Ok really what’s her name?”  
“Come on why are you so sure there’s a woman?” Dean asked a bit vexed.  
“Dean… you smiled more in a few days than you did past months, even when you were broken in pieces and you look hum… relaxed.”  
“I have purpose, Gaby, that’s the difference… a long term purpose. Something to give a meaning at my life for once.”  
Gaby saw his face lightening.  
“Her name!!”  
“Why are you so sure it’s a person?”  
“Because I am Gaby” he winked.  
Dean couldn’t resist but laughed. He was so grateful for this man’s help. He helped him getting out of the streets and to control this hate which probably would’ve led him in jail. He looked at him.  
“Have you heard about the attic boy?”  
Gaby sat in front of Dean leaning in his chair and frowned. He thought a few moment.  
“Yes.” He finally said remembering that story.  
“I remember something about a guy found in an attic, they said he probably spent 30 years in it… damn that’s how you get crazy!”  
“His name is Castiel.”  
Dean stared at his empty glass, Gaby stood up and got coffee.  
“He’s the one messing with your head?”  
“Him… me… this hospital… these patients… I feel like I finally found my place.”  
“Or another shelter…” Gaby added.  
“Yeah that’s what I thought at first, but that’s not about that. I feel useful even if my job is not really glorious.”  
“That’s the least you can say!” Gaby laughed.  
“Gaby…” Dean sighed.  
“Sorry buddy but I see you in boxing gloves rather than in cleaning gloves.”  
“I can do both.”  
“Oh no you can’t, not anymore.”  
“Are you mad at me?”  
“A little… But at the same time I guess it’s also my fault.”  
Dean tilted his head.  
“If you haven’t fought that day, if cops wouldn’t have come and take you to jail, you wouldn’t have ended in that attorney’s office proposing you to clean bathrooms among crazy people.”  
“Stop calling them like that, Gaby.”  
He lifted his arms as he was surrendering.  
“I see this as a move from destiny” dean tried to stand up and Gaby gave him a curious look.  
“See this as you want… I just see I lost one of my best fighters.” Gaby stood up and sighed filling his mug. “Worst thing is… I’m happy for you.” He admitted putting the cup in front of Dean. “I’m too old for this.” He laughed.  
“You’re not… you’re just a nice guy, Gaby.”  
“Don’t try to flatter me I hate it and I already have my oversized ego for that.”  
Their talk was interrupted when Gaby’s phone rang. He rolled his eyes and stepped away sighing. Dean smiled and drank his coffee.

He looked at his wounded hands… who would’ve thought his life could change so fast? Who could’ve imagined a simple signature could turn his destiny? Who could’ve said a single look could’ve broken the walls he built on his past to make him see the truth?  
He was a fighter full of rage living from day to day and today he gave his boxing gloves back to look toward the future. He smiled… no matter what future will bring, he promised to himself he would go on living his life, he lost too much time already.  
Sam would be with him, he will be a part of his life forever, but Dean was not feeling guilty anymore. His brother would forever be in his flesh and blood.  
He closed his eyes and thought about Castiel’s blue ones… Destiny.  
Gaby came back bringing him back to reality.  
“I’ll drive you back.” He smiled.  
“Bibi will follow us with the BMW. But for now I have some business appointment and I have to go.”  
“Fine.” He answered sadly.  
They stared at each other a long time without a word. Everything has been said.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Castiel saw the Impala parking in the alley. Dean got out of it from the passenger seat, shook a man’s hand for a long time, and then the man left to another car.  
Dean waved and when the car disappeared, he lifted his head to look at the third floor. He couldn’t see Castiel but he knew he was here, he could feel it.  
He smiled and went inside, he needed to sleep and to think.  
He also needed to find a way to communicate with Castiel other than his looks and his silences. He wanted to break his prison’s walls as he did even if his were probably stronger and higher. How to enter the world of someone lost for 30 years?  
He stopped and knocked. Melvin opened the door, he looked terrible.  
“Dean!” he said between surprise and sadness when he saw his face.  
“Hi, Melvin. Am I bothering?”  
“No, come in.”  
Between two coffees he announced him he wouldn’t fight anymore and Melvin felt relieved. Dean asked if he could borrow his laptop one more time and Melvin gave it to him. Then he talked to him about Castiel.  
“You should talk to Leyla Fredges, the occupational therapist… she probably is the best to help you. Sometimes patients express themselves better with a drawing or using some pictures, especially patients we don’t know anything about like Castiel.”  
“You’re right, I’ll see what I can do. Thank you, Melvin.”  
“You’re welcome.” He said shaking his hand.  
“Oh and for the fight…I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t bet on me.” He winked.  
“Don’t worry.” Melvin smiled.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean didn’t go to dinner, avoiding questions about his physical situation. He would order some pizza and drink beer.  
He took the badge out of his pocket and put it on the table near the laptop. He told Mary he accepted her conditions to continue visiting Castiel because he accepted them too. She didn’t say anything about it and smiled when Dean left her office.  
“This is the beginning of a new chapter.” Dean said to himself while falling asleep.

 

End of chapter XXII


	13. Lost

 

Dean knew Leyla Fredges would be here this Monday morning. He left a post-it note on the lobby’s whiteboard. It was huge and the name of all the staff members were on it and anyone could leave messages under their names.  
Dean’s note was saying “I need to talk to you, it’s urgent. Dean Winchester.”

He was not seeing her often and he never talked to her. Not that he didn’t like her or didn’t want to meet her, but they had very different schedules that were never matching.  
She was always working when Dean was working too, and she was leaving when Dean was already gone for hours. She was spending all her afternoons behind the doors of the East quarter and Dean had access to this area only for a week on the mornings when she was always locked in her office or in the training room with patients.  
He saw her a few times in the refectory for lunch but she was always absorbed by her files or talking to Mary or the nurses. She distractedly smiled at him a few times when she walked by him but she never seemed to pay any attention to him. She was polite but distant.  
He asked about her around him. Before meeting her, he wanted to know if there was any chance she would help him even if he was a low and unknown staff member cleaning rooms. But for this, he would come at her as a simple visitor. They all agreed: Leyla was a very efficient occupational therapist even if the way she was working was often criticized by her colleagues. After all it was the case for all St Gerry Hall doctors, and Mary let them work the way they wanted even if she was keeping an eye on them.

 

A lot of doctors wanted to work in St Gerry for this particular reason: they could use new therapies, often with little medication because Mary hated to knock her patients out just to calm them. Her goal was for them to find a certain balance so they could live with their illness the most peaceful way they could.  
She was secretly hoping a new revolutionary therapy would be created inside her hospital so she would raise enough money to give her patients everything they needed.  
Leyla Fredges was working half-time in St Gerry Hall and half-time in St James Hospital in the pediatric department. She sacrificed her personal life over her job.

 

Dean woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He would take his shifts in West quarter back today and he couldn’t help but felt sad about it, but still he was happy to come back to the patients he met first when he arrived here. He was attached to them too.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

He was eating breakfast when a shadow appeared in front of him and he looked up.  
“Good morning” Leyla smiled. “You wanted to talk to me?” she asked handing him the note he left.  
He stood up to greet her clumsily.  
“Hello.”  
She took a chair and sat down in front of him.  
“We don’t know each other very well, do we?”  
She put a file on the table and laid her forearms on it.  
“No we don’t…” Dean confirmed.  
“Alright so let me introduce myself to you: I’m Leyla Fredges and I’m the occupational therapist here in St Gerry Hall for almost five years.”  
“I’m Dean Winchester… rooms’ cleaner for three weeks…” Dean smiled shaking her hand.  
She frowned when she saw his bruised eyebrow.  
“So what can I do for you, Dean?” she said in a more intimate way.  
He pushed his plate away, not knowing how to start.  
“Ummm… it’s about one of the patients.”  
“Ok…” she sank in her chair.  
“Mary Campbell gave me the authorization to visit him when I’m not working.”  
She looked at him but stayed quiet, and Dean felt more and more uncomfortable.  
“His name is Castiel.” He finally said.  
“I know…”  
“Why am I not surprised?” he joked.  
“You succeeded where everybody has failed… me included.” She sighed pushing the file in front of her.  
He looked at her surprised by her confession.  
“Beside Missouri, you’re the only one who managed creating a contact with him… you more than her. It seems he’s really attached to you.”  
“I am too… I mean attached to him.” He mumbled “it scares me sometimes.”  
“It’s a good thing… let’s avoid impulsive relationships. It never ends well.”  
He didn’t react.  
“Why did you want to talk to me, Dean?”  
He crossed his fingers on the table.  
“I need you to help me find a way to communicate with him… I mean… the way to put words or moves on his emotions.”  
“What makes you think he wants to?”  
“Everything… especially his look, the fact he accepted the book I gave him, the fact he made me understand he wanted me to go on visiting him. I just feel it inside me… I’m not saying I will be able to cure him, I think nobody can and there are some pains that can’t be cured, but I’m convinced I can help him living a better life because I’ve been through this too… just not the same way.”  
He was twisting his fingers and Leyla was staring at him.  
“I’m not a doctor and I have no degree for that, I’m afraid to mess up and to push him deeper in his own world that’s why I need professional help from you.”  
“In general, occupational therapies take place in the training room or in some rare cases, like Castiel, in the patient’s room… but what you’re asking me here is almost to do my job.”  
“No, I’m just asking for help.”  
“I am truly sorry but I can’t accept this… it’s against professional ethic and it’s not logic.”  
“Ethic? You all have that same stupid word in your mouth! And what logic?” Dean started to lose patience “There’s absolutely no logic between those walls… none! All their logics are not logic to us, but here I know I can help Cas because I understand his logic, he just doesn’t express it well and I wanna help him open up, I wanna help him live!”  
“Ain’t you afraid that you’ll do worse while you open his Pandora’s box?”  
“… says a doctor.” Dean laughed.  
“That shelter he built for all those years…”  
She searched for the right words, trying to avoid the medical terms for him to understand better.  
“… That shelter is protecting him from the real world he’s running from because he doesn’t know anything about it and he’s scared of it. And you… you want to make him cross the line between his shelter and the real world. Do you think he’s armed enough to do deal with it? A few months are nothing after 30 years of abuse.”  
“He survived after all those years of terror and you’re asking me if he’s strong enough?”  
“Exactly… he survived thanks to this shelter he created in his mind but you want to take it away from him… if he manage to do that and find nowhere to go after something from the real word aggressed him, we will lose him forever and I’m not talking only about his soul here.”  
“So what am I supposed to do? Leave him in mute mode forever locked in his precious shelter?” he raised his voice and realized he was going too far.  
He sighed… “I’m sorry…”  
“The true question here is: do you want him to get better for himself or for you?”  
He suddenly looked up and stayed quiet for a while.  
“He deserves a second chance. I want him to get better for him! I wanna share more than a damn look, I want him to live, to win this! I want him to know there are beautiful things out there, he needs to know there isn’t only pain or beating, I want him to get the hell out of that room, I wanna bring him to the ocean, the forests, the mountains, the cities! I want him to see life as it is, I want him to realize there are good people on earth, not only dicks!”  
He looked down.  
“I want him to finally live his own life like anyone else.” He insisted.  
Leyla observed him and listened to him. Each word he said… each move he made… the tone of his voice…  
“I think you deeply want to help Castiel even if I still think you’re guided by your own experience even if you pretend you’re not. You want to save him because you couldn’t save your brother.”  
She saw him tense… Mary told her! He didn’t say anything but his look was full of anger.  
“You are sincerely attached to him and it’s obvious there is reciprocity or we wouldn’t be here right now… I wouldn’t be here. I have to admit Mary and I were worried about this particular relationship you share.”  
“You can name it, you know? It’s called friendship and the fact he’s sick has absolutely no influence on it. I wanna help him because I’m his friend and he knows it. He trusted me enough to reach for me. He knew only darkness and I want to show him light, that same light I saw myself when I thought there was no hope left, but for this I need you. I need you to help me getting him out of his prison. I am begging you right now you understand? I can’t do it alone.”  
She smiled and leaned on the table.  
“I came today because the fact you wanted to talk to me intrigued me, even if I had a clue about what you wanted to talk about, and I listened, Dean. The fact you’re asking my help before doing something on your own makes me think there is maybe a real opportunity for us to help Castiel… I will have to believe Missouri here: destiny seems to insist.”  
“Does that mean you’re gonna help me?”  
“Yes.” She smiled… “But there are conditions.”  
“Oh damn it you too?” he leaned his back in his chair.  
“You will come to see me after each visit and you’ll have to report what’s important about it. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ll share with Castiel, but I have to know about his reactions about the solutions I’ll propose you to try with him. It’s the only way we can succeed… I have reports to make too, you know… we’re a team. Are we good?”  
“Of course… I would’ve reported it anyway.” Dean nodded.  
“Good.” She stood up and took her file.  
“I’ll wait for you in my office at 3:30 pm. Don’t be late.”  
“I won’t be… thank you.”  
“You’re welcome. Keep in mind you’re in a hospital here, a place to cure people and every help is appreciated. Mary gives us this opportunity which is not the case in other psychiatric institutions… so let’s try something.”  
“Thank you.” Dean said again.  
“See you soon, Dean.” She took her file and left without looking back.  
Dean finished his breakfast feeling happy and sad at the same time. He would not be able to visit him today but it didn’t matter… Leyla Fredges accepted to help him, Mary gave him a chance and he was sure they could win this. It was just a matter of time and patience, and now that he knew even if he would lose his job he could still visit Castiel, he was full of hope.  
Yes… they would succeed, they couldn’t fail.

He took a break at 11 am and leaned against the Impala’s hood. He looked at the third floor knowing Castiel was here observing him and he smiled.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Castiel was staring at him, his forehead against the window, lost between images of the present and images of the past.

He arrived in St Gerry Hall a Thursday, Mary Campbell had him transferred and went with him the whole way. They had to sedate him because he refused to get out of his hospital room. Laid on the ambulance stretcher with this strange feeling to float between two dimensions, he met her smile and closed his eyes.  
When he opened them he saw a white ceiling, and he was untied after days of captivity in St James Hospital: doctors there tied him up to the bed because of the panic attacks making him dangerous for them and for himself. He was knocking his head so hard on the walls and on the window he was always covered in blood.  
He stayed several hours stretched out on his bed, eyes on the ceiling, and he finally got up and slowly, carefully went to the window. He looked out and saw a huge park… where was he?  
Castiel thought he was dreaming at the time: he only saw those kinds of gardens and houses in books, a long time ago. It felt so unreal to him that he thought it really was a dream. All of this was just a part of his prison, a new kind of release, a reaction of his mind.

For months he lived in his St Gerry’s room as it was just another part of his shelter, his world he created to run from the attic.  
And one day, Missouri extended her hand to him. He tensed on his chair but she smiled and went on. He closed his eyes waiting for the slap that would break the walls of his kingdom bringing him to reality… he felt a soft caress instead… and he relaxed. For the first time in years he opened his eyes to look in hers.  
It was a new sensation: gentleness. The softness of her fingers wiping milk from his lips… the softness of her eyes caressing his soul. He knew then that this prison wasn’t one, but it was a new reality blooming in front of him… and he was terrorized about it like never before.  
The outside wasn’t only God’s wrath? The beating and the abuse weren’t all he could understand?  
He wanted to raise his hands to touch her dark skin and feel the softness on his fingers too, he wanted to know how it was to feel someone else’s skin other than the cold one of his torturer haunting his dreams… but was it worth it? It never lasted… everything always had been illusion… all of this couldn’t be real or why God would’ve waited so long to give it to him?  
Was he saved and pure now? Or was it just a break before the next hell? How to believe he was forgotten by all of those people for years? Was he so worthless for anyone from the outside to worry about his life and his future? Was he really an evil creature?  
He wasn’t ready to know and he wasn’t ready to step out of his jail, so he sank back in his prison. No one could come and disturb him there because he created his own universe and nobody knew about it.  
He was just looking at this black woman though, like a link between himself and the others, to not drown forever and hold to this tiny hope.

And Dean arrived… and he saw the same pain he had inside himself in this man’s eyes. There was the same pain in his eyes but he was living and smiling like anyone… was it possible to survive this? Dean was the proof it was possible! He was talking, singing like his birds, and his eyes were attracting him out of his shelter.  
But how to say he was scared because where he came from there was only violence and hate? How to say that he didn’t know how to get out of his prison to try his world? How to make him see he didn’t understand everything he said to him, because the words he used had no meaning to him? He never heard them before. How to say he didn’t understand the weird warmth in his heart, this need to cry after so many years holding his tears? He couldn’t even remember when was the last time he cried.  
These walls… high white protections with a window opened to the light… these green eyes: an anchor avoiding him to drown in his fake reality.  
Castiel was a lost soul hanging by a thread between two realities: his own one and theirs, but he knew he was sinking deeper and deeper. The reality he was running from was making him fall in abyss and he would not be able to get out of it.  
The hell he lived in for 30 years was much heavier than a few people looking at him and four walls in a hospital.

He raised his hand and laid it flat on the window, his fingers spread. He tried to scratch the window, like he wanted to dig into those walls to open another prison.  
He looked up at the sky and followed a couple of birds with his eyes…a blue reflection into the blue of his soul.  
When he looked back in the yard Dean was gone.  
Was it a nice dream? He didn’t know what was real or not anymore. Where was each side of both realities? Was there a reality or was it just his imagination playing tricks? What if tomorrow he wakes up under his wood attic roof and on his cold floor again? What if tomorrow she comes back?  
He panicked and ran under his bed curling up on the floor. He shut his eyes so tight he almost thought they would explode. He would not sleep to not wake up from this dream.  
The door opened, footsteps resonated on the floor, and Castiel panicked even more, fear wrecking his guts.  
The footsteps came closer and the human being kneeled… dark skin!  
“Well… Castiel? Ain’t it a little early to sleep?” she said smiling.  
He desperately held her gaze. He hadn’t looked at her that way since he arrived in St Gerry Hall.  
“Castiel?” Missouri worried. “What’s wrong?”  
She frowned and sat on the floor facing him, her back leaned against the wall. He was not leaving her eyes, holding on to them like he would hold on to a life-belt.  
She understood what was happening and stayed quiet. She wanted to hug him so bad to comfort him but she knew he would panic even more. At least she was by his side and she would bring him back no matter what.  
He finally calmed down after a few minutes, she saw him relaxing and he looked away.  
This is when she broke the silence: “Your dinner will be cold if you don’t eat now… you come?” she said standing up.  
She leaned her back against the wall and felt drained… she’s read the distress in his eyes and it scared her. She silently prayed for Dean to succeed where everybody failed, because each panic attack was deeper and deeper. She feared that one day nobody would be here to give him a tender look to bring him back and stop him to fall.  
Castiel needed to put words on his pain, his fears and his emotions.

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Dean rang and waited. Garth came to open with a big smile.  
“Hi!”  
“Hi!” he replied entering.  
He couldn’t help but looked at the second gate, the one leading to the long corridor, the one leading to his room. He thought he must be standing at the window in his white pajamas, barefoot as always and it made him smile. An idea came in his mind and he thought he would have to talk about it with Leyla… maybe.  
He knocked, heard footsteps and the noise of the key unlocking the door, and she opened her office’s door. He hesitated a short moment because he realized serious things were about to start and it scared him a little.  
Leyla noticed it and invited him in.  
“Please, come in, Dean.”  
He sat on the chair in front of her desk and observed the room: on the back wall there were pictures of Leyla with staff members, some others with patients painting or making pottery. Some were smiling and some were not even looking at the photo camera.  
On a small storage unit there were dolls and puppets, and some drawings were hanging at the wall on the right. There were some beautiful pieces of art but also some disturbing ones and a few things he would call stains or doodles. It probably had meaning only for the “artists”. The office was full of files and papers arranged in what seemed to be an organized mess.  
She sat behind her desk and smiled.  
“I’ve read Castiel’s file again after our talk this morning.”  
She opened a drawer and put the file in front of her.  
“How much do you know about him, Dean?”  
He was a bit surprised by her question and swayed on his chair.  
“Not much… I just know what I’ve read on the internet and what people told me… so not that much.”  
“That’s not what I’m asking.”  
He tilted his head and looked at her confused.  
“You mean you want to know what I learnt about him since we’ve met is that it?”  
She smiled and he looked down at his hands.  
“Well… I know he hears me and listens… he doesn’t understand every word I say but at least he perceives the meaning of it. He doesn’t talk but I don’t why…” he paused a few seconds and smiled “I have the feeling he knows, or at least he once knew how to talk. He just doesn’t want to anymore… or he can’t anymore because someone forbade him to or because he’s protecting himself with his silence. Anyway… he doesn’t need words for me to see his pain, I can read it in his eyes and that’s what chocked me the first time I met him… all that distress… this is how I realized he wasn’t crazy but lost.”  
“Where does the reason end and where does madness begin? That is the question.”  
“You think he’s crazy?” he looked up.  
“Ugh! Crazy… I hate that word. We avoid pronouncing it between those walls, with good reason obviously.” She stared at the file “I can’t pronounce any diagnosis on him, no one can because he’s a real puzzle, a unique case. It is obvious he’s a psychiatric case but what can we say about him? As you noticed he could talk, we checked his vocal cords and nothing physical can stop him from talking so he probably just doesn’t want to, but I believe all those years of silence damaged his ability to do it. Voice is an organ and like every organ it needs to be applied to work correctly. Castiel lost the necessity to use his voice so I think we will have to find another way to communicate with him… at least in the beginning.”  
She looked at Dean.  
“You can’t expect any miracle, and it will be a long… very long process. It can take months only for him to accept making an effort to open up. You will need a lot of patience. Do you think you can handle it? Are you ready to accept he eventually doesn’t want to go out of his prison?”  
“I have time… and I’ll give him all the time he needs. I just want to be here for him and try to help him the best I can.”  
“Good.” She smiled. “Let’s talk about his reactions with you, alright?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“When and how does he look at you? What moves did he make? Anything can be useful…”

 

When he left Leyla’s office he was drained and felt like it was too much for him. Wasn’t it a mistake? He was not good with people and he always had trouble admitting his problems so why would he force Castiel to do it? How can he be sure he wasn’t better in his own world rather than in the reality Dean wanted him to know so much? Who was he to judge what was good or bad for him?  
He leaned his back against the wall and sighed deeply before taking the badge out of his back pocket. He looked at the gate leading to the corridor from where he could hear the screams and the moans of the patients resonating between the walls.  
“What the hell am I doing?”  
“Hello, Dean!”  
He jumped: Missouri was here staring at him.  
“Wow a little overwrought, are we?”  
He looked down at the badge and Missouri followed his look.  
“Is it because of Castiel?”  
“I’m starting to think Mary was right.”  
“About…?”  
“I don’t think I can do it.”  
“Do what, Dean?”  
He sighed… “Nothing.”  
“You’re his chance and he’s yours! Don’t make things more complicated than they already are! Give both of you some time, let him come to you and don’t force him to. That’s how it always worked between you too. You act, he reacts.”  
“What if he doesn’t come at all?”  
“Then just be there for him. A tiny thing can make him fall forever, he lost his points of reference when he left his attic and I think he can’t have new ones here that’s why he’s so lost.”  
“I’m nobody, Missouri… nobody. I have no family, no real friends because I don’t know how to make friends, I’m suspicious about everything and everybody, I even lost the rage which made me stand up. I feel empty and this responsibility… this fucking connection messing with me… how could I save Castiel when I’m not even able to save myself?”  
“You survived your own hell when your brother died… you’re still here, you’re alive and so is Castiel. You fought so hard for him you don’t want to give up now, do you?”  
“Thing is it’s your job to save him from his hell… I have enough with my job already.”  
“So what am I supposed to say to Castiel tomorrow? Sorry he won’t come… sorry but the book you hold on to is the last thing you’ll have from Dean.”  
“Damn it will you leave me alone for God sake?” Dean screamed.  
Garth was just walking by at that moment.  
“Hey is everything ok here?” he asked seeing Dean’s angry face and Missouri’s frustrated one.  
“No.” She replied simply.  
“Don’t you dare judge me!” Dean shouted pointing her.  
“You know what?” she started…  
“Open the door right now please, Garth.” Dean interrupted.  
“You’re scared to fail with him like you think you failed with your brother! But you have nothing to be blamed for, you did everything you could to help him, some people don’t want to be saved!”  
Dean ran out.  
“Castiel wants to be saved! You know it and you’ve felt it! You’re his only hope!” She screamed seeing him getting in the elevator.  
“Dean!” she yelled.  
“Missouri what the hell is happening to you? Have you heard yourself?”  
She rubbed her face in her hands.  
“God what did I just do?”  
“You should ask to work in another area. Pull yourself together damn it! I don’t recognize you anymore… I will start to believe Mary: you’re way too attached to him.”  
“This has nothing to do about that, Garth” She looked at him sadly… “He had another panic attack… one of these days we will lose him forever.” She sighed deeply.  
“You just said it yourself, Missouri. Some people don’t want to be saved.”  
She approached the gate and leaned her head on the bars.  
“He held my gaze to stop falling, Garth… he doesn’t want to die, he’s just lost… so far.”

Dean ran out of the mansion and took a deep breath, the afternoon was almost over. Missouri’s words were still resonating in his mind.  
“FUCK!” he yelled with all his guts.  
“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!” he shouted over and over again.  
He looked up to the third floor with an angry look on his face, then he got in his car and left.  
He was full of rage and horny…

 

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

He went to drink in a few bars and ended at Lolita’s a bit drunk. He chose two girls and they made him drive them in a cheap hotel they already went, then they climbed in the first floor.  
Dean let them do, He was one of their regular clients and they knew his habits.  
The blond one took his pants down smiling to her ‘colleague’ and rubbed his already hard penis. She stroked slowly before taking him in her mouth, and Dean exploded too fast just a few minutes later.  
She stepped back letting the other woman do the rest.  
He laid her down on the bed, took the rest of his clothes off and quickly removed hers too. She put a condom on his shaft and without waiting longer he brutally entered her while the blond one was covering his whole body with kisses staring at him. She also took her clothes off.  
Once again he quickly came, grabbing her face and kissing her deeply without being gentle.  
Surprisingly he didn’t leave the room that night. He stretched out on the bed and let himself relax under the two girls’ caresses.

  
And then it happened… one of the girls did something he would never have accepted before: she rode him and sank her eyes in his, she took his face between her hands and kissed him gently on his lips. It was a rare move for a prostitute… they never kiss on the lips, they never say it but everybody knows that.  
She caressed his eyelids, his cheeks and his lips with her mouth and he opened his to let her tongue play with him. The brown-haired woman came closer and stocked his hair, almost as a mom would do to her son. She gently put another condom on him and looked her female friend making love to him.  
He’d never had sex like that before… with gentle moves and paying attention to what they wanted from him. It was a whole new wave of sensations for him, he felt a weird warmth in the rhythm of his movements and was transported in an orgasm he’s never experienced before. He closed his eyes tensing, and when he opened them he saw the girls smiling at him.  
And suddenly he cried like a child, unable to hold the tears threatening for all those years.  
They laid down next to him and cuddled before spending a few hours looking at him sleeping.  
These night angels woke up the man that was hiding behind the beast.

 

End of chapter XIII


	14. Fingertips

 

Dean was leaning against the Impala parked in front of St Gerry Hall’s gates, his hands in his pockets, thinking about everything that leaded him here. A tsunami turned his life in less than three weeks and destiny dealt the cards again.  
He gave up on the Cage and left his rage and a part of his guilt in it. Of course Sam was always with him, in his mind. It was an open wound bleeding at each memory, because whether he wanted it or not he couldn’t help thinking he could’ve done more to save his brother.  
He knew Mary and Deveraux were right: it was Sam’s choice and Dean had nothing to do with it but Sam was his blood and he should’ve been more present for him, he should’ve been more aware of his distress.  
He couldn’t help and compared his situation with his blue-eyed friend calling for help with his look… that look he didn’t see in his brother’s eyes, the will to be saved from madness. He understood what he saw in Sam’s eyes was only farewell.  
He would never judge his brother for the choices he made. Sam was dead but he was alive. What was the point in dwelling on this past he couldn’t change? He just wanted to avoid making the same mistakes and this was the reason why he ran out of St Gerry Hall the day before when he realized how big the responsibility of all this was. It could have terrible consequences.

 

He closed his eyes and remembered his night with Nina... Her blond hair caressing his face when she was making love to him though he didn’t even know the meaning of those words… He let himself go between her arms, he allowed himself to love and to be loved.  
When she laid on him he didn’t push her away, another wall of his prison broke and he realized it when he decided to stay in the room instead of leaving as he always did, without a look for the girls.  
When he woke up that morning, Nina was still here but the other girl was gone. She was sleeping on his chest and he couldn’t help but pulled his face in her hair which made her wake up and look at him.  
“Thank you.” He kissed her on her forehead and hugged her like she was a precious gift.  
A crazy man opened his soul and a prostitute opened his heart… his world changed.  
Destiny had slapped him to open his eyes.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He took his phone to call St Gerry Hall and let them know he would be late because he overslept… it was not a total lie after all. He just didn’t want people to think he gave up.  
On his way back he stopped at a storage room he rent after his parent’s death. A few souvenirs were locked in it among clothes, his vinyl records collection, a few audio tapes and some CDs. He spent a lot of afternoons in this place listening old blues music breaking his heart. He was just sitting on a wood case, in the dark, with his old tape/CD player on a suitcase. It didn’t matter the audio was poor quality, Dean was looking for the emotion only music could bring him.  
He saw it against the wall in its black leather protection case and he smiled, a little sad. His past was all dirty.

9:45 am… he thanked Suzanne who started cleaning the rooms of West quarter for him. This and his smile were for her the best reward. He finished his shift at 1 pm.

 

Castiel saw him getting out of his car… Dean… He held on to his gaze when he looked up at his window.  
Why?... Why did he need him and his presence so much?  
He didn’t understand this emotion clenching his heart, he had no words for it. He’d felt it before with Missouri, that need to touch her and to know what it was like to feel someone else’s skin without being scared or sick of it.

He pulled his fingers to his lips and closed his eyes. He could still feel her fingers on it, her warmth.  
And suddenly he saw that evil smile coming closer to him and taking his lips giving him a bitter kiss that made him nauseous.  
He leaned his back against the wall remembering those times, she was here, right in front of him, her hand extended to his face, her evil grin… it was like having a nightmare being awake. That hand leaning on his chest in a long and cold caress, she came closer and closer and he could smell her. He tensed against the wall turning his look away, staring at the ceiling and searching for the skylight… and then he felt the wet warmth between his legs.  
Full of shame, he slid against the wall and he let his eyes fell into emptiness.  
Missouri opened the door and found him like that, and the smell couldn’t leave any doubt about what happened. She put the plate on the table and came closer to him.  
“Castiel?”  
At that moment she just wanted to shout because she felt useless, she couldn’t get him out of his hell. Why did she study so long and worked so many years if she still was so useless in front of such distress? She couldn’t even move.  
She got out of the room and came back a few minutes later with clean clothes in her hands. She crouched down and tried to catch his look.  
“Castiel…”  
This voice… this call…he slowly turned his look on her… she was smiling, erasing the fear in his blue eyes.  
“It’s ok, Castiel. It was an accident.”  
She tried to lean her hand on his knee to comfort him but Castiel curled up refusing any contact. Missouri sighed sadly.  
“I’m going to put your pajamas in the bathroom alright?” she said with a shaky voice, unable to hide the sadness she felt seeing him like that.  
She stood up and went to the bathroom. When she came back, lost in her own thoughts, she jumped: he was standing right in front of her, almost violating her personal space, staring deeply. Time stopped…  
He slowly lifted his hand and carefully extended it toward her. Missouri froze.  
He stopped half-way, his hand up between his face and hers. She could feel the warmth of his hand as it was a few inches from her face.  
He brought his hand back to him and his look got lost again. Missouri stepped away to let him go to the bathroom, her eyes full of tears. When she pulled her hand to her face, one tear fell down her cheek.

A few minutes later he came back from the bathroom with his hair wet, Missouri was sitting at the table, she lifted the plate cover and he sat down without looking at her. For a moment she thought all of this was just her imagination playing tricks.  
The door opened and she saw Phil entering with a mop. He greeted Missouri, she called him before he finished his shift. She pointed the window and he cleaned quietly. They could only hear the noise of the fork in his plate.  
“Thank you, Phil.”  
“You’re welcome.” He gave her a weak smile and left.  
She turned to Castiel.  
“See? It was nothing.”  
But Castiel was gone.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean didn’t eat and had only a coffee. He couldn’t help thinking about last weeks over and over again.  
What happened?  
He didn’t feel like himself anymore… or maybe it was the opposite? Maybe he finally found himself? The Dean buried deep under years of revolt, rage, hate, disgust, guilt and unanswered questions.  
Each day was a new occasion to turn a page, he felt he was getting out of his body to turn into someone else. He was fighting to emerge from under all those layers and to finally reach the light he was starting to see… like a second birth.  
It didn’t make him feel better though… every birth bring some pain. He knew he would still have to deal with his past, it was unavoidable, but when he woke up that morning he thought maybe he did the hardest part… open up.

He left money on the nightstand and regretted it a bit, he felt bitter about it. Nina came closer and hugged him, smiling and pulling her fingers in Dean’s face. He closed his eyes. Then she stepped away, took the money and put it in one of her drawers. Dean sat on the bed and started to put his clothes on. When she came back to him she lifted his chin with her hand, she smiled, she stared at him and it was like an invitation, a pure and gentle move. She leaned and kissed him… love.

 

He stood up and gave his plate back, then he got outside glancing at his car before checking his watch… 2 pm! He looked up to him… in less than an hour they would meet again and that perspective scared him one more time.

He would have to cover up the silences and keep the one-way conversation going… but he usually was so quiet! What if their friendship stays like that forever: sharing looks? What if he never makes the first move to come toward him, or to let Dean go to him? How much time would he accept those silences and those lost looks?  
He sighed… he would deal with it when it’d happen. Now he just needed time. Today he knew he could take that time because there was a future for Castiel whether he wanted it or not.  
He went back to his place and stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling and smiling to himself. He felt free, like he had wings. The cage’s bars and the walls saved him… Prisons are not all hell.

 

After a while he went to his car, opened it, hesitated a moment but caught the black leather case making weird nervous noise with his tongue.  
He entered St Gerry Hall and Armand, who was walking out to smoke, looked at him a little suspicious. Dean smiled at him and kept walking.  
He stepped nervously while he was waiting for the elevator to open, he felt nervous he thought he was really ridiculous… he looked like a teenager at his first date! He laughed.  
“Some funny memory?”  
He turned around and saw Suzanne.  
“Not really…”  
He looked at the red light of the elevator.  
“You’re going to see Castiel?”  
“You can’t hide anything in this place…” he said sarcastically.  
“Let’s just say it’s rare to see a staff member becoming a visitor.”  
“Well it will start with me then.” He pushed the elevator’s button again, a little annoyed.  
“You should relax, you know… you look like you’re about to explode.” She said smiling at him.  
“That’s because I probably will.”  
He looked at her with a questioning look.  
“Do you think I’m making a mistake?”  
She stepped closer.  
“You’re attached to Castiel and it seems he’s attached to you too, in his own way. Why sharing this connection would be a mistake? Since when liking someone is a mistake?”  
The elevator’s door opened breaking the silence her questions brought.  
“You’re right.” He said stepping in. “Oh and thanks again for the help this morning. I owe you one!” he said pushing the first floor’s button.  
“My pleasure.” She waved at him and he answered by a wink and a smile.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Garth opened the first gate for him. He greeted him and led him to the staff room to make him sign the register.  
“When you’ll leave you’ll have to come back here, write the time and sign again.”  
“That’s totally stupid.” He said taking the pen Garth was handing him.  
He signed and sighed.  
“You’re gonna be ok?”  
“Yeah I will have to.” He said taking the black case back… “Am I allowed to bring it?”  
“I don’t see any reason to forbid it… as long as the other patients don’t have an excessive reaction.” He tapped his shoulder. “Ready?”  
“I feel like an idiot, I have shaky legs, dry mouth… though it’s just a stupid visit.”  
“Don’t worry it’s all gonna be ok. Just be yourself.” He winked.  
Garth opened the second gate and let him enter.  
“I’ll be in the day room if you need me.”  
“Thanks, Garth.”  
“Anytime”

 

Dean watched him leave, he was now alone in the middle of the long corridor among screams and moans of some patients. He looked down at his shoes and stepped forward.  
When he arrived in front of room 14’s door he sighed, put the black leather case on the floor and looked inside. He was here as always, at the window in his white pajamas and barefoot. A smile appeared in Dean’s face… he wasn’t wrong.  
Just seeing him made him lose all doubts and all fear. It didn’t matter if he would never get out of his silence or rather stay in his own reality, Dean just wanted to be a part of his life and if Castiel didn’t want to come to him, Dean would come to Castiel. He would learn to be patient… it was something he never knew.  
He typed the code and the door opened. He caught the case and entered.  
“Hi Cas!” he said putting it on a chair.  
He looked at the window and felt relieve: he was looking at him through the reflection, and even if Dean was not sure it was real, he could see a sparkle in his eyes. But he stayed careful because maybe it was only what he wanted to see, nothing more. He looked down smiling: he would also have to learn how to see things as they truly are and not as he wanted them to be.  
When he looked back up, Castiel was lost again. A few minutes of heavy and awkward silence settled… what now?

He took a deep breath, he just needed to stop thinking and let things happen. He needed to do something without automatically thinking about the consequences. He had to act with his instinct, it worked well with Castiel until now and it was probably the reason why he reached out to him.  
He stepped toward the window and stood by his side. Castiel was staring at nothing… or maybe he was staring at something only he could see. Dean just stayed here next to him, he could hear him breathe, he could feel the warmth.  
He randomly looked at the sky.  
“They say it’s gonna rain tomorrow… summer is over and it’s a good thing because I like autumn better, it’s my favorite season.”  
He sighed again.  
“I like the smell of the autumn rain mixing with leaves… I like walking and hearing them crack under my shoes, it reminds me of my childhood… Sam and I… we were always having fun with leaves when we were going back from school. You should try some day, you know…Autumn is magical… all these colors, the wind blowing everything away, everything dies to reappear the next year.”  
He turned a bit and met Castiel’s eyes. He was listening and looking at him talk, his forehead against the window. He was letting Dean’s voice wrap him and lull him. He was smelling him and feeling his warmth. He was just here sharing his space without feeling any fear.  
He didn’t understand every word he said but he felt the emotion in Dean’s voice. He wanted to see them on Dean’s face and in his eyes.  
Dean leaned his forehead on the window too and turned to Castiel to meet his eyes again, and he saw he was peaceful.  
There was no anger in his green eyes, just peace. Castiel wanted to touch him to check it was real and finally finish the move he didn’t make with Missouri.  
He tilted his head and Dean smiled.  
And just like that fear came back and invaded his body and his mind. He looked away and stared at the black shape in the yard. He was lost again.  
It was a tiny victory for Dean… a very tiny one. It didn’t last long but it was important to him anyway because he knew Castiel was still here, and he knew he would found the patience he needed, one of these days he would keep his eyes on him and he wouldn’t look away. It was worth it.

He stepped back and went to the table. He took the black case and put it on the bed. He unzipped it and took the guitar off the case. A flow of memories came to him.  
His guitar… he stared at it so many time, locked in the black case when he was listening to music in the storage room. He never found the guts to play it again. For who? For what? Who cares?  
He loved music, it was vital to him. It saved him as the Cage did but in a different way. He was still singing though… it was like breathing: he needed it.  
This guitar reminded him of his years at the factory, his coworkers listening to him and sometimes singing along with him. But most important, he was playing it with Sam, on the front steps of their house, after John and Karen passed out completely drunk. Sam would listen to him play guitar, sharing those rare and precious moments, and singing their pain and distress. He was listening to his brother’s voice getting lost in the night. Those were unforgettable memories because their souls were connected.  
Dean touched it… the guitar was dirty and damaged like him. His finger brushed past the strings in a soft noise and he shivered. He sat on the bed, facing the window from where Castiel didn’t move. He carefully brought the guitar closer to him and started to tune it, bringing unusual noises in the room.  
“Bare with me ok? I haven’t played in a very long time… and I can play but I’m not BB King either.” He said laughing to himself.  
He closed his eyes and started to play… It sounded like he never gave up playing. His fingers were a little lazy and sore though… the Cage left scars, but nevermind… the music was living again. He even thought he would find his references back just with Castiel as his audience… at least he couldn’t complain since he wasn’t talking.  
Music was the first thing they shared, it would be their unbreakable link from now on. A song resonated in his mind and he let his fingers slide to play it…  
“Blowing in the Wind” by Bob Dylan.

He played it on the guitar first, he couldn’t sing because he saw Sam and him. He suddenly thought about all the kids screaming for help while he was playing guitar. He closed his eyes and improvised as there was no harmonica to play along with him, and he tried to find the magical and desperate voice of Dylan in his notes.  
Then he started to sing along with the music in his low and deep voice. Time froze, Garth stepped out of the day room when he heard it and he stayed in the corridor, letting the music and Dean’s voice lull him. It was resonating in the corridor and screams stopped. They say music soothes the soul after all…  
Dean stopped playing and singing and the magic broke. He opened his eyes, his hands still on the guitar, smiling a little. He looked up and saw Castiel standing right here, staring at the guitar and tilting his head.

 

Music felt like a pain close to softness. Castiel closed his eyes trying to run from it when he heard Dean’s voice singing. He opened his eyes and looked at him through the reflection. He saw him lost in this unknown world… he knew nothing about it. He slowly turned around and observed him playing guitar and singing along. His face lightened… his eyes were closed… his fingers were sliding on the strings, he was caught in the moment. For the first time, Castiel was attracted out of his world ready to explore Dean’s one.  
When the music stopped and Dean stopped singing, he felt abandoned, lost between two realities: his own one calling him back and Dean’s one fascinating him. He was attracted to it like a bug is attracted to light… but he was so scared to burn his wings.  
Dean saw him look at the guitar and said nothing, giving him time. When Castiel looked back at him, Dean read the emotion in his blurry blue eyes, but Castiel didn’t cry. They just shared the moment for a while and Dean saw his reflection in his eyes.  
Castiel lifted his hand slowly and Dean froze, he couldn’t even breathe anymore. He felt Castiel’s fingers a few inches from his face and was unable to look away from his eyes. He felt his fingertips leaning shyly right under his eye and made a huge effort to contain his emotion, he didn’t want to ruin the moment and he knew if he moved, Castiel would stop and go back to his prison.  
Castiel slid his fingers along Dean’s cheek in a soft caress and took them away right after. He looked away and stepped back to the window.  
Outside room 14’s door, the screams returned. Garth gave a last look in the corridor and went back to the day room.

Dean put his guitar on the bed, stood up, pulled his hand in his hair and took a deep breath to clear his mind. He stepped toward Castiel and stood by his side, speechless and not looking at him. They were just standing there sharing closeness and light.  
He lost track of time and jumped when Garth opened the door. He understood it was time to go and nodded at Garth without saying anything. Garth nodded back and left.  
Dean turned to Castiel but he was back in his world. It didn’t matter though… Castiel’s move was one of the most touching moments of his life, and it would be engraved in his mind forever, along with these eyes he liked to sink into so much, trying to find a way to read them.  
He put his guitar back in the black case and turned to him one last time.  
“Bye, Cas.”

 

 


	15. Indefference

Days were passing by and one day looked like the next… every day. Leyla warned him but he didn’t prepare for that… he actually didn’t want to prepare for it.  
He had so much faith in this, especially after that special moment when Castiel finally made a move and touched him!  
Dean put his pen back on his desk and leaned in his chair. It’s been ten days already… he sighed.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He was eating breakfast, lost in his mind, when Leyla approached him quietly. He looked at her sitting in silence, and she put a book on the table.  
“Hello, Dean.”  
He didn’t answer… he just wasn’t in the mood for a talk. Talk to say what? That Castiel wasn’t reacting to his presence anymore? That he was standing all day behind his damn window without moving away? That he was even avoiding looking at him and that it was killing him more and more every day? To say that he wanted to cry his soul out every time he left his room because he had the feeling he lost him forever? Or maybe to say Castiel’s move touched him and gave him so much hope but now he was seeing it as a farewell?  
He kept visiting him though. He came the next day, the day after, and the days after that too, and each day was harder because he lost a piece of hope each time he left the room. He was full of doubt and disillusion.  
Then he tried to not visit him for a few days, thinking it would disturb Castiel and make him react next time he’d see him, but when he came back it was even worse. He played guitar, he sang but nothing seemed to work. He searched for his look in the window’s reflection but he didn’t find it.  
He started to wonder if Castiel finally made his choice: he chose his prison instead of Dean’s world. Music can’t save the world, but Dean really hoped he could’ve saved him.  
He stayed less at each visit, Garth or Armand didn’t need to remind him when it was time to leave. Why would he stay longer if Castiel wasn’t willing to react? Even his look was gone. Something in him broke.  
Dean was always using the same ritual not to disturb him though: he was entering, greeting him, standing by his side a few minutes and talking to him persuaded he was listening. Then he was taking his guitar to relax a few minutes, his voice filling the corridor and resonating like a lullaby.  
Patients seemed to love his music, and he ended up singing only for them since the one he was supposed to sing for wasn’t paying attention anymore.  
Then he was putting his guitar on the bed and was going back to the window next to Castiel without a word, trying to catch his look but it was always empty.  
Castiel was definitely gone.  
Missouri thought she was wrong since the beginning, and she was now scared to see Dean giving up too after finding a new meaning to his life. Mary was right: this story would destroy both men and destiny probably wanted to break them apart.  
When she left Castiel’s room that day, she cried. There were no exchanges anymore but she still could feel the pain in his eyes when he was staring at the walls like he wanted to melt in them to disappear.  
Castiel gave up and nobody knew how or why. They knew he was a unique case and a real puzzle even Dean couldn’t solve. He was their last hope, they saw Castiel choosing him.  
Missouri closed the door and put his half eaten meal on the cart… he wasn’t eating that much either.

 

Leyla pushed the book toward Dean.  
“What is it? Psychology for Dummies?” he grumbled.  
“No… open it please.” She replied ignoring his bad mood.  
He put his mug down and looked at it: it was a book with a fake-leather cover. He laid his hand on it to bring it closer to him, and then he opened it with one fingertip.  
Nothing… white empty pages. He looked at her confused.  
“I want you to write down everything you feel, Dean. Anything that comes to your mind… I want you to evacuate everything that bothers you.”  
“Bite me. That’s for teenage girls.” He said pushing the book back to her.  
She stared at him leaning her back against her seat, and broke the heavy silence that settled.  
“Dean… we warned you.” She said softly but firmly.  
“I know.” He sighed.  
His shoulders crashed like he was carrying the world on them. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hands and exhaled before leaning his elbows on the table.  
“If only I could find a way for him to express what he feels… but I have the feeling I don’t even exist anymore for him.”  
“You need to keep believing in him. Always believe, Dean. We’ll try something else and we’ll finally find the key.” She reassured him.  
“It’s not because you think he’s not here that he’s actually not.”  
“He doesn’t look at me anymore. He just stands behind his fucking window all day long, his eyes are lifeless!” He looked down… “I have the feeling I screwed everything again and I can’t stop wondering what I did wrong.”  
“Don’t blame yourself. Keep in mind he’s here because he’s sick, Dean. He’s not just a John Doe we take care about. Do you understand?”  
“Yeah… I know but… he’s not like them.” He said pointing at the door to indicate he was talking about the other patients.  
“Each case is different. I think your problem is you don’t realize Castiel is here to be cured, he’s a patient.”  
“He’s not sick damn it! He’s not one of your autistic boys or one of your psycho-pedophile guys!” he raised his voice without noticing it.  
“As long as you won’t admit it you won’t be able to progress.”  
She was about to stand up but he caught her hand, raising a bit from his chair.  
“Are you giving up on me?” he asked begging with his eyes.  
She settled down and he mumbled some apologies she could barely hear.  
“You don’t see the obvious even when it’s right in front of you.” he affirmed.  
“Castiel is a victim and he’s stuck there because he’s absolutely certain he will stay a victim forever. He thinks he’s guilty for a crime he didn’t commit. I’m just asking you to help me proving he’s wrong.” He sounded like he was talking to himself. “When you look at him like he’s sick you make him feel even more guilty, problem is he doesn’t know for what. SHE was guilty, SHE was sick… not him. His soul in just broken in a million pieces and he’s still a boy lost in a man’s body. How do you want to help him if you’re unable to understand that?”  
He sank in his chair.  
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know how it is to live in hell, a hell worse than beating and blood, worse than words eating you up from the inside, the hell of indifference… the one that makes you feel it’s all your fault and you’re the one who’s guilty. You deserve all the beatings because of that! That disregard from the people around you makes you believe it’s your fault, and when you look in the mirror you only see the piece of crap you’ve became! Your face reminds you of your guilt and you say to yourself you deserve all of it, but in your guts you know it’s not fair and you want to shout it out but you can’t!… and there is a ‘Sam’ to tell you you’re not guilty…”  
He couldn’t breathe anymore, his chest was painful, and Leyla was listening without adding a word.  
“Who was here to tell Cas he’s not guilty?” he asked pointing at the door.  
“You? He doesn’t want your pity. He doesn’t want you to cure him, he’s just asking why… why nobody heard him scream for 30 years… why you let him rot in an attic in total indifference. Why would you want him to quit his world for ours? For that?” he showed the room.  
“Tell him! Tell him why and maybe you’ll have a chance to save him but don’t count on me anymore. I’ll always be by his side but I won’t force him to do anything anymore. He suffered enough.”  
At that moment he realized Mary was standing next to Leyla. He stood up, greeted her with a nod and walked away leaving the plate and the book on the table.

He would not go to visit Castiel today, he had no strength. He was drained by all this. He needed to admit it: Castiel was not him and not Sam either. Leyla was right: Castiel was a victim but he was a sick patient first and he needed to accept it before trying to help him.  
That day he cleaned the West quarter without a word, greeting the patients only with a weak smile.  
He left without eating lunch, avoiding every looks he could meet.  
When he walked toward his car he lifted his eyes on the third floor… tomorrow he would tell him… he would tell him he wasn’t guilty for anything.  
He felt a bit sad… What if Mary cancels the authorization? What if yesterday was the last time he had seen Castiel?  
He opened the car’s door and turned around to wave at Castiel. He leaned his hand on his heart and extended it in his direction.  
Even if she could separate them, he would always be here, even if they could only share waves. He would not be the indifference that killed his brother and forgot about the attic boy.

 

He stopped the car in front of Gaby’s apartment, hesitated and turned the engine back on. He drove quietly, with no music, just silence and emptiness.  
The horn and the lights of a truck woke him up and brought him to reality. He stopped the car on the side of the road and stayed here for a while.  
When he decided to go back it was almost 7 pm. He turned around and drove back. He directly went to his place, he didn’t want to meet anyone. When he arrived he saw the leather book against his front door. He took it and opened it.  
“For Dean.  
May indifference not be a truth  
and may truth not be indifferent.  
Leyla Fredges.”

 

Sitting behind his desk, he couldn’t find the words, so he closed the book and left the pen.  
“It’s been 10 days Castiel is gone.”  
That’s all he managed to write.  
He stood up and went to the shower a long time, trying to blow the tension away from his muscles.  
Once again he stared at his naked reflection in the mirror a long time. He extended his hand and wiped the steam away, following his scars with his fingers.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He was staring at the yard, the Impala was shinning under the sun reflecting its light on the dew that was on it. The rain stopped as soon as it started falling down.  
He loved leaning his fingers on the window and try to catch the rain drops from behind. He liked following the thin rivers blurring the view. He liked the sound of rain against the window, thrown by the wind like it wanted to die piercing the invisible glass.  
His forehead leaning against it, he turned his eyes to the sun… Dean… would he come today? He felt he was more distant and sadder and he knew it was his fault. He shouldn’t have touched him, he had no right, he was not pure enough, he was dirty and damned. Even she couldn’t purify him. He corrupted Dean with his touch.

But when night was coming and he had to close his eyes to sleep, when he was falling into the darkness of her kingdom, he couldn’t help but was dreaming about him. She was beating but his green eyes were easing the pain. She was raping but his voice was comforting him, and his smile was forgiving him.  
He was then holding his hand out toward him, brushing past his face and the warmth was making him peaceful. He was his light in the darkness.  
What was this world he was waking up in every morning? Where was he? Was it the world she was always talking about? That hell full of fake smiles?  
What if it was just an illusion? Maybe Mary, Missouri and all those people were fake too… that’s why he touched him, he needed to make this mirage disappear because he missed his world, his birds, his blue sky.  
Dean and his music, Dean and his voice were making him lose his reason, but when he touched him he didn’t disappear… and the fear that came then was unbearable.  
The attic, the white walls, the birds, his freedom… in what world was he alive? He was lost among crossing destinies.

He wanted to yell to hear his voice echoing between the brick walls, but he screamed so many times without receiving an answer to his pain that he ended up screaming only in his head… he was screaming so loud… to death.  
But in his silence he was also feeling things, he was also living, hurting, crying and talking.  
His eyes became the only door he had toward those unknown worlds. But for now he had to keep them shut and quiet because they were betraying him.  
The rain and the sun were the only things he could find in both prisons, not like all those faces and those looks.  
He wanted someone to shout for him, he wanted Dean to be real so bad!  
Was he?  
The door opened and he looked down. He didn’t have to look to know he was here, his body knew, he could feel his presence and he could smell him, he could also hear his breath.  
He closed his eyes waiting for him to come by his side, he needed his illusion back at its usual place for a few hours… but he didn’t come even if Castiel knew he was here.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Dean glanced inside through the small window. Today it would be only him, he left his guitar in his place.  
He wrote in the book: “Even when the wound heals, the scar stays.” It was from Syrus.  
He entered and stayed in front of the door, silent, without looking at the reflection. The endlessly moans of patients were weak compared to his deep sigh.  
They were alone… just the two of them.  
Dean stared at Castiel’s heels, his pajamas were too long and were touching the floor. He never wanted shoes because he liked feeling the coldness of the floor.  
Dean suddenly wondered how many scars those pajamas were hiding. The only one he could see was the one on his eyebrow. But he knew the deeper scars were the one the eye can’t see.  
He was lost in his thoughts and barely noticed Castiel had moved. He felt the weight of his heart growing. He couldn’t see his heels anymore but his toes… he was facing him.  
He looked up and their eyes met… at last! His last hope was to break the ritual and it worked. He couldn’t help but smiled and Castiel tilted his head. It was a long quiet exchange and Dean tried to keep it the longest he could.  
He slowly stepped forward putting his hands out of his pocket and prayed with all his faith for Castiel not to run away. He was staring at him and didn’t want to look away to not lose their special connection. He stopped right in front of him, invading his personal space, and he felt Castiel tensing but he had to go on.  
Dean lifted his hand slowly, showing his palm to make him understand he had no intention to harm, and he noticed Castiel was shaking.  
“Shhhh…. Cas, it’s just me… Dean.”  
His hand was too close and Castiel slid down against the wall, curling up and putting his head between his knees. It looked like he wanted to melt inside the wall to disappear.  
Dean crouched down.  
“Cas…” he whispered.  
“Cas, please… look at me.” He pleaded kneeling in front of him.  
“Cas?”  
Castiel tensed and started to sway. Dean bent slowly raising his hand, trying to catch his look back. He laid his hand on Castiel’s head the slowest and softest he could to not scare him and not lose him one more time, and for the first time Dean heard a sound coming out of Castiel’s mouth… a tiny moan… a distant groan, like he was suffocating in his awful fear.  
Dean’s heart broke. For a second he even thought it was coming from the corridor, another patient moaning as surreal as it sounded.  
“Cas I’m begging you here… look at me.”  
He caressed his hair with gentle moves.  
“I will never let anyone hurt you anymore… ever. You hear me, Cas? Ever.”  
He pulled his hand back from his head and leaned against the wall, sitting next to Castiel, and he stayed here for a while with his forearms on his knees, head against the wall. He was just listening to Castiel breathing.  
“My dad started drinking after Sam’s birth… not that he was a sober saint before, but he could find moderation and wasn’t violent… just aggressive. That dick couldn’t handle alcohol well. I don’t remember those years that much to be honest. I’ve never been close to him and he never did anything for us to be anyway. We were our mother’s kids, not his. He never wanted us.”  
He closed his eyes and sighed.  
“I remember the first slap though… not the one to punish but the one that fall without you to expect it. I was almost 5. I remember the last blow too… I was 15. I lived 10 years in hell and it haunted me for years, like a shadow running faster than me, passing me and eating me… that shadow killed my brother.”

He opened his eyes and stared at the door in front of him… he felt sad thinking about Sam.  
“Fear was the worse. The sound of his footsteps in the hallway… his hoarse voice… the screams… the evil laughs broken by coughs because of cigarettes… the sound of glass bottles clinging… not knowing what to say or what to do to avoid beatings even if he needed no excuse to break our bones. That fear still wakes me up some nights… I’m scared he would come back and all of this would start again. I know he’s dead, I saw him dead but I can’t help it… his ghost haunts me. I would like to erase him from my memory but each scar on my body reminds me of him, each footstep makes me jump in my bed. He haunts me even in my dreams… beating me over and over again, and it hurts as much as it did years ago.”  
He looked down.  
“Ten long years of hell and I still have to fight today to win this… because I actually did win this. He wanted to break me but he made me stronger.”  
He turned his head to look at Castiel who still hadn’t moved.  
“You saved me, Cas… You and St Gerry Hall… you both saved me.”  
They stayed here a while, silent. Time was frozen.

 

Dean opened the white pages book.  
“Eleventh day… Cas came back.  
I’m here for 2 months, my life will never be the same again.”  
He closed the book and put it back.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

He came back to visit him the next day, he hadn’t told Mary or Leyla about what happened. The book was the only witness and it was enough. There were moments he just wanted to keep for himself. One day he could talk about it with Leyla, he had to, for Cas.  
He typed the code after glancing inside as usual. Of course Castiel was standing at the window and Dean felt sad when he realized he lost weight. He suddenly looked terribly thin in his big pajamas.  
He decided he would change the way he comes to him: no ritual to make him feel safe because it was influencing Castiel to stay in his world. He needed to disturb the vision he had about the reality. The reality that brought habits: eating, washing, sleeping, waking up at the same hour every day, doing the same things…  
For most patients it was a necessity but for Castiel it was like showing him an endlessly repetition of his illusion. Dean changed that.  
Castiel ended up hoping he would come instead of waiting for him, and each time the door opened it was his moment of relief when he was seeing Dean’s face. He discovered a new emotion, something he never knew before… happiness. It didn’t matter if it was an illusion. From all the illusions he had, this was the most beautiful one because it brought meaning to his life.  
And there was this hand in his hair… he felt the warmth again. He didn’t dare looking up fearing it would end and he would be abandoned one more time. His voice… his words… those words had a deep meaning to him. The pain in his speech was running through him. He could feel the pain but he also could feel the strength Dean had. He could feel him next to him.  
Illusions don’t have a soul but the man next to him had one. He was just too scared to look up.  
He found his way: this reality was the same than his attic. He was alive in both. He ran from this hell a long time ago, and now he was so scared to come back.

But Dean’s look… it could lead him through those crossing ways.  
He searched for Dean’s eyes in the window’s reflection. He needed them to bring him back to reality. Dean could now step close to him, he gave him permission. Castiel wanted him to touch him again to prove him he didn’t make the wrong choice and all of this was real… just real.  
He was walking his Stations of the Cross but hadn’t reached the top yet. He could go back to his blue kingdom and let the birds bring him with them beyond the walls but something was attracting him toward the door, those green eyes and the white walls.  
Life was calling him, it was screaming he was alive.  
He turned around and looked at the door that wasn’t closed. He looked down and turned to Dean like he was asking for something.  
Dean hesitated… he didn’t know what to answer. He felt Castiel was screaming inside but he couldn’t understand what he meant. He needed to do something.  
He stepped forward and extended his hand. Castiel held on his gaze and on his smile. He wanted to believe the illusion coming to life and he wanted to have hope.  
Dean pulled slowly his hand on his face like a mom would do to comfort her child, just to let him know he was here and would always be.  
Castiel closed his eyes and Dean saw a tear rolling down his cheek.  
Castiel just woke up.

 

End of chapter XV


	16. Revival

Weeks passed by and autumn was here, like a slow death of the nature before winter, which would lead to a new revival in spring… nature’s resurrection.  
Dean was sitting on the front stairs and was looking at the yellow, orange and red leaves. It’s been four months he was in St Gerry Hall but it felt like a lifetime as his own life changed so much. But he had to admit he never felt so alive. He couldn’t affirm he was happy though… he even wondered if he really knew the meaning of this word. Sure he knew some happy moments in his life, but they were lost in an ocean of pain so how could someone be truly happy after a whole life of pain and sadness?  
He saw Sam’s face when he closed his eyes and he smiled… it was like a caress on his face, the autumn’s wind and the nice smell that Dean liked so much. Sam was definitely a part of his happy moments, he missed his precious and rare smile so much!  
He wished he could’ve proved him there was a life after hell, he found a way to fight for it. He just needed a hand, a chance to catch it and a look to turn his world upside down. If only he could’ve resist a little longer to those shadows following him even through the nights, if only he could’ve hold on to life like he did!  
It was hard to fight, but Deveraux was right: he was alive because he wanted to live and not only because he promised Sam. Happiness is not only for other people, he deserved it too and he always thought so. No matter what future would bring, he would walk toward it without the ghosts of his past. His past would forever be marked in his flesh but it was not a problem anymore, Dean opened the Cage and let all of his resentment go away: the rage and the violence were gone. He let warmth enter his cold hell.  
And the key was a look… Castiel’s look.

 

Using patience and quiet exchanges, he managed to open him up, even if he would never have the same relationship with others than he had with Dean, he knew what they shared was unique and nobody could take that away from them, but he needed to open up to other people now, not only with Dean. At least he could do it with Missouri, Garth, Mary or Phil.  
Dean already talked about it with Leyla even if he really didn’t want to. He loved that special connection they had and he was now afraid to lose it if Castiel could share the same things with other people.  
When he entered the room with Missouri, Castiel looked at him first even if Missouri was the first person to get close to Castiel when he arrived in St Gerry Hall. It would always be Dean first.  
Dean had the idea to come along with Missouri when she was bringing meals in room 14. He talked about it to Leyla first and Mary said yes. Castiel did so much progress in a few months thanks to Dean that she had to take that opportunity too.  
For most people, the fact that Castiel shared a long and deep look with another person was probably not important, but for Mary it was clearly a miracle that was happening over and over again thanks to Dean’s patience and thanks to his stubbornness too… he was absolutely determined to get Castiel out of his world.

The first times he ate with him and Missouri he wasn’t very demanding and let him deal with his emotions first. Castiel never looked what he was eating, but now he was staring at Dean or Missouri instead of the window or the door. Of course he was still avoiding their looks.  
Dean and Missouri were talking about anything including Castiel in the conversation. They both knew he wouldn’t understand all of it but they wanted him to realize he wasn’t just a witness of life anymore but an actor too.

Dean was going along with Garth too when he could. Castiel took more time to create a connection with him, probably because he didn’t have the motherly instinct Missouri had, and not the brotherly one Dean had either. He had to approach Castiel another way and he chose humor. He was telling him about his delirious adventures and Dean couldn’t help but laugh… and his laugh would make Castiel react every time.  
He liked that sound and he held on to it, it was like the birds’ singing, and after a while he accepted Garth’s presence too thanks to that. He was making Dean laugh and it was bringing emotions in Castiel’s heart. It was also bringing a new sparkle in Dean’s eyes and of course he didn’t miss it.  
Garth was also telling stories about how he met magic people in St Gerry Hall, some patients he particularly was caring about. Some of them were cured now and he was still seeing them.  
One day he turned to Castiel and said:  
“I met some magic people here, you know? And you’re one of them. The day I first saw you entering those walls, so skinny and so lost, I knew you would be someone special, someone who marks a life forever. I never cared about what people said about you, I always knew you were here even if you were quiet and that’s why I never talked to you like you were a child. I think you’ve never been a child actually, because people stole your innocence too early. I’ve never seen someone with so much strength… because, dude… you really needed strength to survive this hell of yours and to keep fighting. You deserve to live… life owes you.”  
Dean leaned in his chair, he was touched by Garth’s words. He talked in a soft voice looking only at his knees, like he was showing some sort of respect to the man who didn’t need any lecture from anyone. Who were they so call him crazy? He lived true hell and he survived… he was a hero.  
When Garth looked up at Castiel, he was staring at him, his head tilted as always. He met his eyes and Garth smiled.  
“Hi…” he said tenderly.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Each day and each look were a victory. It was harder with Phil though. Phil liked patients a lot but he always had a hard time making contact with people. He was keeping distance to not be attached too much, he would never go too close. After all he was not a part of the medical staff here, he was just cleaning rooms, but Dean insisted a lot and he accepted to make an exception for Castiel because he saw it more like a therapy instead of a friendship.  
Dean was not here when Phil met Castiel… Mary made a lot of concessions for him and he needed to respect her and his contract, but he trusted Phil and he knew how he was with patients, he would find the right words or the right moves to bring Castiel toward him.  
Phil started with a short visit, and he would stay longer and longer each time. He talked to him and tried to catch his eyes but Castiel always refused to look at him. Dean thought it was maybe because he wasn’t here but he decided, and Leyla approved, to not rush anything and to let Castiel go to him. It would change the rules.  
Castiel needed to open up even without Dean around, and needed to do it even with people he wasn’t so close to.  
Phil didn’t give up and he didn’t wonder why he was so willing to give Castiel a chance. He wanted to spend more time with him, talk to him, observe him and finally he was attached to him more than he wanted to. Castiel was magic: he knew only rain but he was attractive like the sun. They all were like bugs around a light, but this one wasn’t burning.  
Phil pushed his cart in front of the door and took a chocolate snack from it. He stepped toward Castiel and stood by his side, observing the wind that was blowing in leaves. He opened the chocolate snack and felt Castiel moving. Phil took a bite and was enjoying the taste of chocolate, smiling a little when he wiped a bit of chocolate from his lip. An awkward silence settled between them, the lack of exchange was worse than the lack of words.  
Phil did something he wouldn’t have done with another patient, and frankly he thought he would never do it with Castiel either. He broke the snack in two pieces and handed one half to Castiel. He didn’t react, and Phil even wondered if he’s ever seen a chocolate snack before. He knew here patient had cake or chocolate milk but he doubted they ever had a chocolate bar.  
“Castiel…” he said softly approaching the snack from his face.  
Castiel turned his head away, but Phil didn’t give up: he put the chocolate on the edge of the window and kept eating his part of it, with a lot of satisfaction moans. He was almost done and Castiel hadn’t move, but when he put the last bite in his mouth he saw Castiel was observing him through the reflection. He smiled and sucked his fingers.  
“That was so good!” he said, content.  
Castiel lifted his hand and touched the chocolate bar with his fingertip. Phil decided to step back and clean the table glancing at the window. He looked at his watch and realized he would not be finished at 3 pm but right now he didn’t care so much. Castiel finally took the chocolate in his hand and Phil felt his heart clenching. He kept cleaning the table with a smile on his face.  
Castiel observed the chocolate a long time, and of course it started to melt on his fingers. He changed and took the chocolate with his other hand to lick the melted chocolate. If he could’ve, Phil would’ve jumped of happiness and he understood what Missouri and Garth were living every day, it was intense and he was living it right now. It was a tiny step toward recovery but it was thanks to him this time. The big steps were thanks to another room’s cleaner: Dean. Everybody else failed but they did it!  
Mary was right: they were part of a family and they had the same goal. They needed to bring the patients into the world and not hide them like they had plague.  
When Castiel brought the chocolate bar to his mouth, Phil was shattered. He was finally a part of all this and not just a witness anymore, and he thought he would never look patients the same way from now on. Behind their silence or they pain there was a Castiel ready to wake up.  
Lost in his thoughts, Phil didn’t see Castiel turning around and when he looked up he was staring at him. He couldn’t help but smiled: his mouth was full of chocolate.  
He hesitated a moment, the chocolate bar experience was a success and maybe making another move would be too much, but he instinctively took a napkin on his cart and stepped toward Castiel. He wiped his own mouth first and showed the napkin to Castiel pointing at his lips. Then he pointed Castiel lips and he tilted his head, intrigued. When Phil lifted his hand near his face he tensed.  
“I’m just gonna clean your mouth… it’s full of chocolate!”  
He tilted again showing he didn’t understand, but Phil’s comforting voice seemed to be enough. He let him come closer.  
Phil wiped his mouth, all shaky and laughing nervously, and then he showed him the napkin full of chocolate.  
“See? I’ll bring another one tomorrow… with nuts! You’ll love it.” He winked.  
Castiel had no reaction except going back to the window.  
When his shift was done, Phil ran to Dean’s place. It was an important step for Castiel: he didn’t need Dean to open up to other people anymore, or to accept new gestures from them.  
This is when Leyla decided it was time for her to get in touch with Castiel too… the true therapy could begin.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean woke up and got out to breathe the fresh air of the morning. It was a warm and sunny autumn day and it reminded him how much he and Sam loved Indian summer.  
He had an appointment with Leyla… Today, he would introduce her to Castiel.  
He met her before but at the time he refused any contact with her. As she worked half-time and had more than thirty patients, she resigned and reluctantly gave up because Mary insisted. This was a new opportunity for her. She would start with Dean hoping Castiel would accept her presence because so far he opened up only with people he was seeing almost every day. What would it be with her?

Dean typed the code and entered. He was coming to visit Castiel like anyone would come to visit a family member or a good friend, not like a patient anymore. He knew he was still sick but their relationship was deeper than that.  
Mary cleared the conditions: Dean could visit Castiel anytime, he just needed to sign the register, respect visits schedule and report a few things about Castiel’s evolution. It was normal and Dean agreed. He just wanted to spend time with him, the most he could. He knew Castiel was still hanging by a thread and a too strong emotion could make him fall again, but he didn’t want to lose him... ever. He would risk his own health instead.  
Castiel turned around as soon as Dean entered his room and stared at him. Dean smiled.  
“Hey Cas!”  
He was never expecting any answer, Castiel seemed to want to stay silent and he never tried to make any sound. He learnt how to live in silence and was not seeing why he would talk now. Talking reminded him of too many awful memories, silence was comforting, but Castiel could talk in his head. He was happy to repeat the new words he was learning every day and he was trying to find a meaning to them.  
Castiel was a smart person, and that’s probably why she stopped teaching him how to read and write. He would have understood his place was not in an attic. He was already convinced his situation was not too normal so she took away the weapons to get out of it. Words and knowledge were more dangerous than guns and knives. They would deliver him.  
He read Dean’s book’s words though… nobody knew about it. They were all thinking he was just staring at the pages like he was looking for a treasure from the past, but his mind was opening to each letter and each word.  
Even when she stopped teaching him, even when he had no right to take any book from the shelf, he could still see the pictures and the words in his head. He wrote them on an invisible board with his fingers. After a while he couldn’t see them anymore so he repeated them in his mind, spelling them too. It was a daily game that kept him alive, his brain would not give up.  
But after a few years, the fatigue and the craziness were too strong that he forgot… everything turned black. Why would he write or read? For who? For what?  
When Dean gave him the book, the words came back. Without even noticing it, Dean gave him his thirst of learning back. The lost words came back to his brain.  
But even if he found words back, he couldn’t speak them out. He never found the way to do it again. But did he want to?

Dean stepped away and let Leyla entering the room. Castiel paid no attention, he was still held on Dean’s eyes.  
“Cas, this is Leyla Fredges. You’ve met her before, do you remember?”  
He looked away and went back to the window. Dean turned to Leyla, she smiled and stepped toward Castiel. He could smell her perfume… it smelled like fruits and sugar.  
“Hello, Castiel. I’m Leyla.”  
No reaction… Dean looked at her through the reflection. She stepped closer and saw Castiel tensing.  
“I’m going to leave you with Dean… I just wanted him to introduce me, I’ll come back tomorrow. I’d like to know you better… are you ok with it?”  
Castiel didn’t move, he wasn’t even paying attention. She stepped away.  
“Bye, Castiel.”  
She leaned her hand on Dean’s arm when she passed in front of him. Castiel observed it in the window’s reflection.  
“See ya tomorrow, Leyla.”  
“Yes, see you tomorrow, Dean. Have a good afternoon.”  
She left and Dean saw Castiel’s shoulders relaxing. He stepped toward him.  
“She’s nice, you know? She just wanna help.”  
He turned to Dean and stared.  
“You don’t believe me?”  
He tilted his head and Dean couldn’t help but smiled.  
“Do we go out today?” he tried.  
Castiel wouldn’t go out of his room. Dean was always keeping the door open when he was visiting him to let him know there was nothing to fear about the outside. He was scared first, Dean could read the fear in his eyes, and then indifference replaced fear, and curiosity replaced indifference, especially when he was seeing Garth, Armand or sometimes Melvin walking in the corridor with another patient.  
“Don’t you want to go out for a walk?” he asked looking outside at the park.  
Dean felt Castiel’s defenses straighten, but he knew after a while he would eventually let go, he was just progressing in his own rhythm. He couldn’t blame: his first contact with the outside was violent and traumatizing for him. His room was his safety… but Dean was coming from the outside… they were all coming from the other side of the door.  
Dean didn’t insist. He knew one day Castiel would follow him. He wanted to give him time, because he knew the day he would go out, it would mean he’d gave up all of his world to accept all of Dean’s world. He was waiting for this with a desperate need, but he would have to be very patient.

For the moment, he would sit, Castiel would sit with him and he would tell him about his day like every day. He would talk and Castiel would look at him.  
“I’ll bring my guitar next Sunday. You’ll see… I practiced and I’m pretty good now, a real pro!” he laughed.  
“I leanrt a new song just for you.”  
Castiel tilted his head.  
“You want me to sing a bit of it?”  
Castiel’s eyes lightened.  
“Can’t wait uh?” he laughed again.  
He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.  
“It’s by Donny Hathaway… of course that name doesn’t ring a bell for you but my brother loved this singer and this song a lot… it kinda suits us.”  
He let himself drown in the melody in his head.  
“Road is long  
With many a winding turn  
That leads us to who knows where  
Who knows where?  
But I am strong enough to carry him  
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother…”

Words were rising like a prayer. It’s been a while Dean hadn’t sung for Castiel, since that moment he thought he lost him. This song was for Sam and for him.  
Garth leaned against the day room’s door, his voice sure could transport him.  
Leyla froze near the front gate and seemed to hold on to it with one hand, looking at the floor.  
This song was a hymn to brotherhood, blood or not. It was a love song to his dead brother and to Castiel. Dean was not seeing Castiel as a sick person anymore, he was not just a friend either, it seemed he was attached to him as he was to his brother. He saved him and now he had to save Castiel.  
“He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.”  
When his voice stopped, Leyla opened the gate and left. Garth did the same, and the screams of patients started again.  
When Dean opened his eyes, Castiel was staring at him, and he had to look twice to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. He straightened on his chair.  
Castiel was not just smiling, he was offering him a broad grin. One of those grins that light up someone’s face reaching the eyes. He was smiling at him for the first time. He understood the song words and he felt something through Dean’s voice.  
“I figure you liked it.” Dean said with a shaky voice.  
Castiel smiled even more for a second, and then his smile and his eyes faded. He looked at the door.  
“You… you… you wanna go out?” Dean mumbled straightening up even more.  
Castiel looked at him and stood up. Dean stood up too trying to not move too fast. It was something he’s been waiting for so long! He was shaking.  
He opened the door, just a little, but Castiel didn’t move further. Dean offered his hand.  
“Come on… you don’t have to be scared, I’m here.”  
He didn’t know how much time it lasted, time froze and he could only focus on Castiel’s breathing. He was scared, terrorized and he couldn’t move. He was staring at Dean extended arm, at his hand, and he wondered what was the reason of it.  
How could he know? Nobody ever held a hand out to him. They only took it by force.  
He finally took a step forward. Dean bent and took his fingers in his hand. Castiel rejected it brutally.  
“Cas… it’s just me. Dean.” He said surprised by his sudden reaction.  
He tried to take his hand again but Castiel rejected it one more time, this time in a more aggressive way. He didn’t insist.

Dean stepped to the door and opened it full. Castiel could see the corridor. He was alone, two steps away from it, without anything to hold on to as Dean was turning his back on him.  
Dean prayed for him to come closer, he was already so close he could almost feel Castiel’s warmth in his back, but he knew inside him he wouldn’t go further today. It was already more than he wished.  
Dean stepped back and closed the door. He turned around and he slowly leaned his hand on Castiel’s cheek and smiled. It became a common move for them.

“Come on… we’re going to look at the autumn through the window.”

 

End of chapter XVI


	17. You're not evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> attention   
> hard time in this chapter, mention of rape

It’s been two weeks since Dean introduced Leyla to Castiel. He was coming along with her when he visited him.  
Even if Castiel wasn’t paying attention to her, no look, nothing, he tolerated her presence anyway.  
Dean was observing, he knew he was reacting when Leyla was talking to him but he was always avoiding her look, he was always looking at Dean like he was asking why this woman was here all the time.  
One day, Dean asked Leyla to sit down and talked to Castiel.  
“She’s here to help you, Cas…You’re keeping everything for yourself.” He pointed as his own head.  
He was standing between her and the window, Castiel was staring at his bare feet. Dean knew he was following every move he was making even if he tried to act like he didn’t care about it. He knew him pretty good now, and they both knew how the other one worked, they were feeling it.  
“You must talk to me, Cas. We need to talk to each other, I’ll be here with you, I’ll talk too, we’ll talk about our truths and our secrets… our pains.”  
Castiel looked up, he didn’t understand all the words. Truths? What truths? There was only his own truth for him. He had time to think about it since he was here. He knew what he lived when he was in his hell back there, and he knew what he was living now here. He didn’t want to live those things again even if they were still haunting his nights. He could still feel the taste of blood in his mouth, he was still waking up because of beating pain, lifting his arms to protect himself. He could still feel her cold hands on his body. He was still waking up in sweat staring at the white ceiling.  
It was breaking his heart and it was painful to breathe but he didn’t want to let that pain out, he was too scared about it.  
He listened to Dean who wanted to share his pain with him. But why? Why would he live that hell again?  
He tilted his head and stared at him confused.  
“It’s not possible for you to live it again and again every day in your head, Cas. You need to talk to us, you need to free yourself from it, you didn’t do anything wrong and you’re no evil.” Dean said almost begging.

Leyla observed the two men staring at each other. They were literally living through each other, like a projection in a mirror… like a fusion without being unhealthy. A magical encounter, and she forgot she was a doctor for a few minutes, she was just a quiet witness and she was shattered about it.  
Two destinies meeting had something divine but she never believed in God. God was letting thousands of people suffer, he forgot about them and that’s why nobody cared.  
“You did nothing wrong.” Dean insisted.  
“We did nothing wrong.” He whispered looking down.  
A long silence settled and Castiel decided to break it when he walked forward. He felt Dean’s sudden pain. He leaned his hand on Dean’s face again as he did a few weeks ago, he knew it was comforting for Dean. He leaned two fingers under his eyes and he saw Dean smile. It was his way to thank him, because it was the only way Castiel would fully understand.  
Leyla shivered like it was suddenly cold. Castiel turned toward her and stared first at her hands leaning on his bed, then he looked up slowly and their eyes finally met. She understood why everybody was so fascinated about his look. She could read anything in his look: he just agreed to work with her, not for himself nor for her, but for Dean.  
Leyla smiled at him and he went back to the window. She stood up to leave the room and leave them alone, she felt like a stranger. Dean smiled at her, she smiled back and she smiled at Castiel through the reflection too as she saw he was still looking at her. She would dream of blue eyes that night.  
Dean went to the window next to Castiel and they didn’t talk the whole afternoon. It wasn’t necessary anyway, everything had been said.  
“You did nothing wrong… you’re no evil.”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean returned to Leyla’s office the next day and she explained what she planned to do with Castiel. She showed him a box full of dolls… Barbie and Ken dolls? Really?  
He frowned.  
“He doesn’t talk and he’s closed when it comes to the reality. If it weren’t for his eyes we wouldn’t even perceive what he feels. I will try to make him show his pain through these, but I will need your help, Dean.”  
He understood and he knew that form of therapy. He’d made research since he arrived in St Gerry Hall and since he’d met Castiel, especially thanks to Melvin who gave him his laptop every time he needed it. Every ways were good to get Castiel out of his prison. He didn’t want to make any mistake though, it would ruin everything. He was often talking about his researches with Missouri and Garth, they became close to each other since they had a huge common point: Castiel.  
Missouri knew what she was talking about, she was a nurse for a long time so she could have a wise opinion about how to cure Castiel, even if she often was confused about him as he was so unique. But they were so concerned about all of this that they all searched for solutions.  
Garth kept telling stories to Castiel when he was bringing meals and Dean came less and less for those moments as the contact between Garth and Castiel was pretty good now, he was always staring at his unstoppable babbling lips.

After a lot of patience, Missouri finally managed to make him look at what he was eating.  
“Castiel… watch!” she said pointing at his plate and his fork until he was able to do it by himself. Nobody knew if he was really watching what he was putting in his mouth but at least he could eat without messing up his clothes or the table. It was a new step toward the outside.  
He also accepted Phil long visits, he was now bringing candies to him. Castiel was always waiting for him to put them on the edge of the window or on the table to take them, he couldn’t accept anything from the hand of anybody… not even from Dean, except when he was leaning it to his cheek to comfort him.  
He refused any form of contact on any other part of his body, probably because from all the tortures she inflicted him, she was always avoiding his face… except for a few times.  
Dean thought that the day Castiel would accept his hand or a hug, he would win against the monster she was.  
He closed his eyes. The progress was slow, but what was done was something earned for a long time and it would stay.  
“I’ll start to explain to him…”  
Dean jumped… he didn’t listen to Leyla.  
“You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?” she asked in a firm voice. “I’m doing this on my free time, Dean… I could take care about other patients instead, so at least you could pay a little attention. It’s important! You don’t seem to realize what could happen…”  
“Yes… I do. And it scares me to tell you the truth.”  
He leaned his elbows on his knees.  
“He did so much progress… what if it was too sudden?” he looked down.  
“Dean… he’s been here for nine months… I think it’s time for him to finally live. As long as he will be locked in his prison refusing to communicate he won’t go further. It’s heavy for him to hold all of this and I’m sure you know what I’m talking about here. He didn’t have a way to express his rage and he didn’t have anybody to share it. I’m not saying it will be easy though.”  
She leaned her back in her chair.  
“He never needed you as much as he does now, what he always buried deep inside will come back like a boomerang and it will be very hard for him but it’s the only way he can deal with his past and start to deal with the future. He’s stuck between his dreams, his nightmares and the reality. Thanks to you he understood he created a fake world but he still holds on to it because his past is way too painful for him to deal with. The psychological scars are the worst, Dean, you know that.”  
“What if he falls forever in his fake world? What if he’s not yet ready for this? What if he never is?”  
“Thirty years of abuse and he’s still alive… and he’s still fighting. He’s never been as ready as he is now. He just needed a hand.”  
“He doesn’t accept to hold hands.” Dean replied abruptly.  
“Not literally… but the fact he accept to be touched is already a huge step towards recovery. The fact he did a move like he did with you, the fact he accepts you and other people as a reality, the fact he shares looks with all of us… it proves he’s ready, Dean. Now the question is… are you?”  
“Me? Ready for what? Reveal myself to him?”  
“No… Ready to hear what he has to say.”  
He looked up to Leyla.  
“You think he believes I’ll reject him because of what she did to him?” he raised his voice a little.  
“Not really. I think he might be scared you’d reject him because he let her do it.”  
“Bullshit! What do you know? Nobody knows how he sees things but he certainly doesn’t see them as we do. He indeed created a world for thirty years and we’re about to break it… I’m just scared it will break him.”  
“I’m afraid it’s a risk we have to take if we want to have a chance to cure him one day.”  
“Yeah if he wants to.”  
“Dean…” Leyla scolded. “His whole process in St Gerry Hall shows he wants to and you know it, you’re the best to say it! He wants to get out of it or he wouldn’t have opened up like he did.”  
“I know…” he said shyly looking down.  
“Don’t worry, we won’t go too fast and we won’t ask too much, we’ll do it step by step. I’m not saying he will make a speech at the end of his first session. Let’s make him go as slow as he needs to.”  
Dean mumbled something and stood up.  
“I have to go, he’s waiting for me.”  
She smiled.  
“We’ll see each other tomorrow at 2pm, is that ok for you?”  
“Do I have a choice?”  
“I will talk to Mary about it.”  
Dean already knew if she talked to Mary she would start the therapy whether he wanted it or not. After all he was the one who came to her for help.  
“Good.”  
He left the room glancing at the dolls’ box and sighed. The hardest thing was he would have to talk too.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

When he entered the room that afternoon, Castiel was not standing at the window like usual, he was sitting at the table with the book in front of him, opened to the crow page.  
Dean paused, it was rare to see him sitting like that except to eat… and it was probably a bad sign.  
“Hey, Cas!”  
He took a chair and sat next to him. Castiel didn’t look away from the bird and Dean felt something was wrong. It was in those moments he was raging he was not able to talk. Castiel was sitting round-shouldered on his chair and that couldn’t be good, but as he refused to look up to him, he was unable to know what was bothering him.  
Dean leaned against the wall and looked at him, hoping it would bring him back like it did before, when he was so lost in his mind. He could stay like that for hours but Dean would stay too because he knew he was fighting inside and he was waiting here for him to come back to reality and look at him.  
Dean noticed Castiel was twisting his fingers on the table and he would’ve given anything to find the right words to help him.  
What he didn’t know was at that precise moment, Castiel was living one of his rapes again. Probably the worst one because the silent man was here too.

The man bent over him while he was tied and she looked without saying anything, with sparkles in her eyes. She tied him up after she put drugs in his dinner and he knocked-out. She patiently waited for him to wake up and she smiled when he did.  
He knew something was up when she knocked on the floor with her shoe and the trapdoor opened. She stepped close to him and caressed his face. The man stepped close too and she nodded.  
The thing he reminded the most was the terrible pain of the in-and-out movements of the man… he wasn’t even aware of what he did. That man was just satisfying a perverse need and she loved watching it with her evil and gross look. She loved the pleasure of the man and she loved the pain of the other. He was just lifeless during those moments.  
The man was tightening his hands, leaning on them to enter him without any moderation, spreading his legs and lifting his hips.  
He wasn’t saying anything, but he was making hoarse moans and then he would stop and step back, leaving him broken on the bed with his pants down.  
She would stand up, take the man’s hand in hers and step out, leaving him here alone with his pain, his humiliation and his nudity.

“Cas?... Cas!”  
This voice calling him… he looked up at the skylight and the bird came back… the black bird with blue reflections. The bird sank his eyes in his and knocked on the skylight with its beak. He liked to think it wanted to open it to save him… and then the bird flew away calling…  
“Cas!”  
His fingers stopped twisting. He slowly looked up as he was waking up from his nightmare, worse than the others, which was announcing more to come.  
He met Dean’s look and Dean was shattered by the distress in Castiel’s eyes. He stepped closer to him instinctively and put both hands on his face. Castiel held on his eyes desperately, Dean knew he could not let go, he knew Castiel was hanging by a thread, he could feel he was ready to fall.  
Making him open up to reality probably brought awful memories back to his mind. He could run from them before, in his own prison he created, but today he was on the way towards reality so he couldn’t hide anymore.  
Dean leaned his forehead on Castiel’s one, he was still holding his face. If he could’ve, he would’ve entered his brain to erase all those memories and pain. He suddenly felt Castiel’s hand gripping his sleeves desperately.  
“I’m right here, Cas… I’m here and I won’t leave you.”  
He wanted to cry but he had to be strong for him, never put his pain before Castiel’s one.  
Castiel really needed to put words on his emotions, and Dean needed to help him, he had to get out of this or he would die and lose his soul… she would win.  
When he calmed down and released Dean’s sleeves, Dean stepped back and he saw his face was more peaceful. Dean smiled at him and brushed past his cheek one last time.  
“You know what?... We both need Leyla.”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean met her on the front stairs, he was sitting here as he liked and Leyla was just leaving.  
“See you tomorrow, Dean!” She greeted and stepped away.  
“I’m sorry for what happened this afternoon!” Dean said to catch her attention.  
She turned around and stepped back, not because of his words but because of the tone he used to say them.  
“What happened?”  
He looked up to her.  
“He uh… he hold on to me as he was about to fall again. I don’t know what that bitch did to him and I doubt we can measure how awful it was, but if we don’t do anything it will kill him.”  
She came closer.  
“That’s why we’re here, Dean. He holds on because he finally opened up to reality and he can’t run from what he lived anymore. The reality crossed his fake world. It’s the beginning of recovery, Dean, and this is now you have to be strong, this is now he needs us.”  
“I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough. It kills me to see him like that and I feel totally useless and powerless.”  
“He would still observe us without reacting if you hadn’t been here. He would still live in his fake world where he would’ve lost his mind forever.”  
“Well… sometimes I wonder if it would not be better for him.”  
“He wouldn’t have done so much effort to open up if it was really true. He’s desperately fighting to survive and it’s not the moment to give up.”  
“I won’t.”  
Leyla leaned a hand on his shoulder.  
“And about you… we’re here for you too, Dean. We’ll support you. Don’t forget you’re not alone… not anymore.”  
“I know.” He said smiling at her.  
“Alright… See you tomorrow then. And have some rest because it will be a tough day for all of us.”  
“Thank you, Leyla… for everything.”  
“We should be the ones thanking you, Dean. You gave us a real humility lesson here.”  
She stepped away with confidence and finally disappeared.

The door behind him opened but he didn’t turn around. Someone was offering him a cup of coffee and a smiling face.  
“I figured you would need this.”  
“Thank you, Suzie.”  
She gave him a questioning look, and seeing he was lost in his thoughts she climbed the steps back up.  
“You can stay if you want, but I should warn you I won’t be too good company.”  
She sat next to him.  
“We don’t need to talk if you don’t want to.”  
“Thanks.”  
They stayed here a moment, just sitting next to each other, in silence.  
Castiel observed them from the third floor. He tilted his head, a curious look on his face.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean was seeing Suzanne more and more. He liked her and let her come in his life just a bit, but it wouldn’t go further. He liked her company and talking to her but he always avoided too personal subjects. He wasn’t ready to reveal himself. She would soon finish her training and Dean’s job was almost over, but he would still come in St Gerry Hall to visit Castiel. That’s why he kept his distance from her even if he liked her a lot. He couldn’t be involved in a relationship with a girl, he would hurt her anyway. He just learnt how to love a woman’s body without being brutal, he wasn’t ready to learn more yet.  
He had no time anyway, the time he had he was spending it with Castiel. It was his one and only priority. Suzanne was no fool and she knew it, but at least she liked spending a few minutes with him and talk. Dean had to admit it was good for him to talk about anything with her too. It was clearing his mind.

That evening, Suzanne came and knocked on his door. Dean closed the leather book and put it in the drawer before going to open the door.  
“Suzie?”  
“Hi. Am I interrupting something?”  
“No…” he said a bit confused. “You wanna come in?”  
She figured by his behavior he was more polite than anything else, and he probably didn’t want her to come in.  
“No thanks… I just came to give you something.”  
There was a very awkward tension between them.  
“I have tickets for some Blues concert Friday night. They’re amateurs but as I know you like music I thought you would like going.”  
He really didn’t know what to answer to that… it was Wednesday, so many things could happen till Friday!  
“It’s not a trap. I promise.” She joked, blushing.  
“Suzie… it’s nice… really… to think about me… but I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”  
Her smile faded a little but she didn’t give up.  
“Alright… but it’s just to clear your mind out of those walls, you know… nothing more.”  
He smiled at her, his shoulder leaning against the door. Maybe it could be great to get out of here, but at the same time he was feeling like he was betraying Castiel, having fun without him, while he was alone in his room… it suddenly scared him.  
“Listen… keep the tickets and if you don’t find anyone else till Friday… maybe I’ll go with you. Ok?”  
She smiled.  
“Great! The concert starts at 8 pm. If you wanna come, I’ll be waiting in the lobby at 7.”  
“Alright.”  
“Fine... Goodnight, Dean.”  
“Goodnight, Suzie. Thanks for inviting me.”  
“Who else would I invite?” She turned around to hide her sudden blushing cheeks… Idiot!... She heard her inner voice resonating in her head. She heard the door shutting behind her and rolled her eyes.  
“Thanks.” She whispered.

Dean leaned his back on the door, the doorknob still in his hand. What just happened?  
He closed his eyes and saw Castiel’s blue eyes. He needed to clear his mind or he would end crazy too! He was obsessing him and making him lose the meaning of reality, the meaning of his own life.  
He took his phone, searched for a name in his contacts and dialed.  
“Hi, it’s me. Are you free tonight?”  
He smiled, hung up, took his jacket and left.

From the other side of the phone, Nina smiled. She turned to look at the man who was putting his clothes back on. She needed to change the sheets, Dean was coming. He was now a regular client and he was learning to love, doing it better and better. Nina became his confident, but she knew one day she would lose him.  
For the moment, she was dreaming of a normal life. She did nothing wrong to end up like this… bad circumstances happen. At least she was lucky enough to choose her clients.  
The man kissed her on her forehead and put some money in her hand, bringing her to reality. She sighed and saw her reflection in the mirror: she was wearing her red bra and garter belt… she would need to change and put some white underwear for her precious broken angel.

Dean looked up to the third floor, he didn’t know if he was still awake at that time. Castiel was not sleeping well and had no regular sleep-cycles, as Garth said. He often slept on the floor and his nights were full of nightmares.  
“See ya tomorrow, Cas.”  
He turned the engine on and the Impala left.

 

End of chapter XVII


	18. The strength of distress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some hard moment in this chapter

 

Dean woke up to Nina’s breathing sound, she was sleeping against his back. He turned around and brushed his fingers past her cheek, she smiled without opening her eyes.  
He was attached to her, she was a victim too, except Nina never wanted to quit being a victim, she learnt how to love her life as it was… she was a consenting victim. She chose her regular clients, and her procurer was killed in a fight so she was free to work as she wanted.  
Sometimes she would work in nightclubs to find new clients, and that’s how she met Dean. She was renting a room in this hotel because she knew the owner for five years. He was married and never asked for Nina’s favors, his wife was one of the cleaning ladies of the hotel, Nina knew her and she was paying her twice her price. She was giving the man 10% of her benefits to stay on his hotel.  
She was a tenant like any other, she just had a particular job but was discreet about it. The men, and few women, that were coming for her were discreet too.

Dean smiled and got up. He looked outside, the sky was grey so he sighed. Nina hugged him from behind.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing.”  
“You’re a poor liar.”  
He felt her smile on his shoulder.  
“It’s a dark day, that’s all.”  
“You wanna talk?”  
“No. I have to go or I’ll be late for work.” He replied.  
She looked at him and saw he put money on the nightstand, under the “Venus of Milo” copy by Dali she loved so much. Then he left, giving her a last quick kiss on her lips.  
The door closed on the only man in her life she has learnt to love. She laid down on the bed, breathed his scent and fell asleep with tears in her eyes.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean started his shift without even eating breakfast, he couldn’t eat anything today, he couldn’t even drink coffee. He was so nervous he even forgot to greet the patients he met, and he worked so fast he finished one hour early.  
He put his supplies back on the closet and got out quickly, he needed some fresh air.  
He sat on the front stairs and finally looked up at the third floor. He didn’t do it when he arrived.  
Castiel was looking at him and seemed to feel his nervousness.  
“Castiel, come over to eat please.” Garth called.  
He barely ate that morning.

 

Dean waited for Garth to open the gate, chewing his lips nervously. He couldn’t relax.  
“Hey, Dean!” Garth said typing the code.  
“Hi.”  
He walked straight to the staff office to sign the register.  
“Dude, are you ok? You look stressed today.”  
Dean sighed and sat on the side of the desk.  
“I’m scared.”  
“You talked to Leyla?”  
“I have to meet her before we go to Cas.”  
“She’s a pro, Dean… and one of the best. You have to trust her.”  
He stepped closer.  
“You also have to trust yourself…”  
Dean gave him a tired smile.  
“He’s still so fragile…”  
“Not so much, Dean… he’s not fragile and he’s not weak, I can assure you. And I’m sure you know it.”  
Dean stood up.  
“Alright… time to go.”  
He was about to step out when Garth called:  
“Dean?”  
He stopped but didn’t turn around.  
“Castiel is not Sam.”  
Garth said this with apprehension, he was afraid Dean would have a bad reaction but he also knew he couldn’t help but compare them. He saw his shoulders crashing down.  
“I know, Garth.”  
He left and closed the door behind him.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Leyla was waiting for him sitting behind her desk. When he entered, the first thing he saw was the dolls box. She put dolls and some other objects he couldn’t define in it. She saw his face changing.  
“Dean… you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”  
“I want to.”  
He stepped forward and sat down.  
“How do you feel?”  
“Not so good.”  
He looked down. Leyla could see he was making nervous moves with his leg, and he was staring at his hands, fingers crossed.  
“What are you afraid of?” she asked leaning her back on the chair.  
“Are you analyzing me?”  
“No…. I just need to know if I can count on you today. I know it will bring bad memories to you too, I know you wanted them dead forever and it cost you a lot to fight and bury them… but I also know your refuse to share some of them.”  
“I’m not the one who needs therapy today, am I?” he replied firmly.  
“I need you to be with us, Dean. If you feel you can’t handle it, nothing is forcing you to come with me. I can’t deal with Castiel and you at the same time. Do you understand?”  
“I promised I wouldn’t give up on him… and this time I will keep my promise.”  
“Here we are.”  
Dean sank in his chair frowning.  
“I’m gonna ask it again: what are you afraid of?”  
“You’re the shrink, you tell me.” He said sarcastically.  
“You won’t lose him.”  
Dean looked at his feet.  
“Are you afraid putting words on his pain will destroy him?”  
He didn’t answer, locked in his silence.  
“Dean…” she insisted.  
“The day before… before Sam killed our parents…” he looked up at Leyla.  
“Dean…” she encouraged him leaning on her desk.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, playing with his fork in his plate, a blank stare on his face.  
Dean threw his jacket on the hallway table and entered.  
“Hey!” he greeted opening the fridge.  
He took a soda and took a chair to sit with his brother. Sam had no reaction.  
“Are you ok? You fought with dad again?” Dean worried.  
“No.” Sam managed to say.  
“You can tell me, you know?”  
“Stop it, Dean. I’m not a kid anymore.”  
“So stop acting like one.”  
Sam pushed his plate away and leaned on his chair.  
“I’m tired.”  
“I know.” Dean said staring and playing with his soda. “I will soon have enough money for us to leave from here. I’m just asking you to hold on a few more months.”  
“Dean…” Sam sighed.  
“Sam!” he pleaded with his eyes.  
“I can’t.”  
Dean pushed his chair closer to his brother.  
“What’s wrong? Tell me, Sam… I see something’s been wrong for a few weeks.”  
“It’s nothing, Dean. Forget it. I don’t wanna talk.”  
“But you have to… we promised each other to always talk about everything. Don’t keep this inside you or it’ll kill you.”  
“I’m already dead, Dean.”  
“STOP IT!” He stood up suddenly and Sam jumped. “Don’t you dare talk like that!”  
“You wanted me to talk. So what do you want to hear? That I’m fine? We both know it’s not true. We’re not fine and he won.”  
“NO!” Dean yelled hitting the table. “He will win only if we give up… but we won’t.”  
“I already gave up, Dean.” Sam confessed looking down.  
“What?”  
“I can feel the anger inside me… that need to hit something and… and…”  
“And what, Sam?”  
“I love that feeling…” He said looking his brother with wet eyes.  
“Of course, it’s anger, it’s normal to like it, and I can feel it too, but you have to turn it into strength to fight.”  
“I have no strength left. You asked me to put words on what I feel, well this is what I feel. This is it, Dean.” He said crying. “I hold on to my distress only, and I do it for you… only for you. I can’t hold my rage back inside anymore, it’s eating me and it’s winning, Dean.”  
“That’s crap! You’re not like him, you will never be like him!”  
“I’ve hidden it deep inside me for years… I’ve fought so many times and I loved it… the fear on their faces…”  
“You what??” Dean asked shocked, pulling a hand through his hair.  
“You couldn’t see it… you thought it was dad.”  
“Don’t call him like that in front of me!” Dean shouted.  
“But that’s what he is, Dean… this man is our father… it’s dad.”  
“SAM!”  
“You wanted to know… now you know. Your little brother is just a copy of the man you’re running from.”  
“Don’t you dare talk like that, you hear me? YOU-ARE-NOT-HIM!”  
“YES I AM!” Sam yelled and stood up. He was now dominating Dean as he was taller, and Dean stepped back when he read his father’s look in Sam’s eyes.  
“I won’t let him win… you’re better than that… we can win this together… I’m gonna find a psychologist to help you.”  
Sam snorted. “Like the school shrink?”  
“The what?” Dean asked surprised.  
“Too many blows and after the first nice look someone gave me I ended up in front of the school psychiatrist.”  
“When? Why have you never said anything to me about that?”  
“Because you wouldn’t have understood, Dean.”  
“Understood what? Damn it! That you needed help?”  
“No. That the shrink put real words on my pain.  
Dean frowned.  
“What did that dick tell you?”  
“Nothing I didn’t know already.”  
“Sam…” Dean insisted.  
“He said ‘like father like son’”  
The sentence resonated in Dean’s mind and reminded him of the unique ‘accident’ that happened in a January in his room.  
“You believed him?”  
“I found words to express how I feel… I always knew what I was.”  
“That’s bullshit, and I’m sure you changed the shrink’s words. Violence is not hereditary.”  
“Fifteen years of violence make you violent.”  
“Bullshit!” Dean yelled.  
“I’m not as strong as you are, Dean… I so wished I could drain your strength…”  
“You can!”  
“No, it’s too late… the devil is inside me.”  
“You listen to me…” Dean said trying to control himself, holding his brother by his shoulders “tomorrow I’ll search for a specialist and we’ll go to him together, as we will always be, for the best or the worst.”  
Sam smiled.  
“The best…” Sam repeated laughing.  
“Sam…” Dean sighed.  
“Dean, you’re the only good thing life brought to me, you’re the only ‘best’ I’ll ever know.”  
“As you are to me, Sammy… ain’t it a good reason to fight?”  
“I can’t… and I don’t want to anymore. I lost all my strength.”  
“We will get him Sammy, we won’t let him win, he won’t take that away from us.”  
“Thank you, Dean.”  
“For what?”  
“Thank you to have listened to me. I needed it. Now I know who I am and I know what to do.”  
Dean froze.  
“Sam?”  
“Don’t worry… I’ll follow your advice… I’ll fight for both of us.”  
Dean stepped closer and tenderly hugged his brother.

The day after, Sam murdered his parents.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Leyla listened without interrupting. When he looked up he was crying.  
“I’m scared all of this will kill him too.”  
“Dean… Castiel is not Sam…”  
“I know that, damn it! Why are you all saying that to me?” he stood up to hide his pain.  
“Do you think words can’t heal? Do you think they kill?”  
“I believe words can be terrible weapons, yes. The crap my parents did to us was nothing compared to what they said. The humiliation by the words is the worst. The physical wounds can heal and disappear, but the wounds left by words never leave.” He explained pointing at his head. “He repeated to Sam he was a monster like him, and Sam finally believed him. He believed he would end up like him and be proud of it… he was so fragile... I couldn’t find the right words to prove the son of bitch was wrong!”  
“You were just a kid, Dean… it’s not your role to hold that burden.”  
“I know… But it doesn’t change anything.”  
“You hold it the longest you could.”  
“Not long enough.” He sighed “If I had to lose Castiel too I…”  
“Why would you lose him? He survived after thirty years of hell, you think he resisted so long to give up now?”  
“Maybe he’s waiting this to finally release his grip…” Dean whispered.  
“Dean…He came to you, and he came to us, even to me… he’s the one asking for it. He needs it.”  
“Does he?... or do we?”  
“Let’s say we all need it, let’s be honest on that point.” She answered smiling.  
“You really think playing with dolls will help him?” he tried to sound casual but it turned sarcastic.  
“I’ve seen children screaming their pain through these representations of their torturers, and they were finally relieved. Castiel doesn’t talk and apparently he doesn’t want to so…”  
“Has he ever talked?”  
“Probably. We can’t be sure, but this therapy worked before, Dean… let’s give him a chance.”  
“Yeah right… You’re talking about a chance…”  
“There is absolutely no night he spends without having nightmares, ending under his bed to run from her. I don’t think showing his pain out and share it with us can be worse than that. I hope we’ll manage to make him understand he’s not guilty and she was the monster… not him…”  
“What will it change for him?” he interrupted “You think knowing my father was beating the crap out of us and my mom was drinking till she drowned, and knowing we were innocent victims has changed anything for Sam or me? What would’ve changed something though, would be that someone gave a damn about it and got us the hell away from them!”  
“And that’s exactly what we’ll try to do with Castiel today.”  
“It’s not today that he needs it, it was thirty years ago… when nobody cared about his screams and his sobs resonating in his fucking attic!”  
“It’s never too late…”  
“It is for him.”  
“Do you truly think what you’re saying here?”  
“I think he can live better but you and I know he will never have a normal apple pie life. How could it be possible? I already know, when I look into his eyes, that he lived more than we could possibly imagine…”  
“Like what?”  
“What?... nothing!”  
He closed his eyes and remembered that day in January… that unique but awful day that marked him forever. When Castiel gripped his sleeves yesterday he recognized the look in his eyes because that day, he had the same.  
“That’s why you’re so scared? You’re afraid to learn more than you would want to?”  
“I’m scared to learn that something that happened once in my life became a morbid ritual for him… And if this is really what it was, I can assure you he will never have any self-esteem, he must feel dirty and corrupted to his body and his soul.”  
“What do you think she did exactly?”  
He stayed quiet for a while.  
“Nothing in particular.” He lied.  
“Ok… we should go now.”  
He made her understand without saying it clearly, so she didn’t insist. Dean seemed to be less nervous, and maybe he could handle the truth now.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Castiel was sitting and staring at his hand leaned on his knees. He ignored the dolls placed in front of him on the table. Leyla explained to him what to do with them using easy words, she said the dolls were him and them.  
Dean was sitting on the bed, while Leyla was waiting patiently a reaction from Castiel, leaning against the wall. She didn’t want to rush him, he needed to do it by choice when he would decide it was the right time.  
Minutes passed by with no word pronounced, they could only hear their breath mixing. Dean finally stood up and Castiel discretely followed him with his eyes.  
Dean stared at the dolls: there were men, women and children from each age, each hair and skin color. He took a male doll with dark hair by its feet and sighed, then he took another one, a boy. He looked at Leyla.  
“Dean?” she questioned.  
“I’ll be fine.”

He sat in front of Castiel on the bed.  
“My dad.” He said showing him the first doll. “If I can call him that way…” he laughed nervously. “He never loved us… me or Sam, my parents never wanted us, too bad my mom wasn’t sterile.” He said sarcastically.  
“As far as I can remember, he always hated us… he always put myself down and humiliated me… I think in my oldest memory I must be 5.”  
He was talking without looking away from the doll.  
“He told me once he would’ve rather see me die in my mom’s gut… his own words… I never forgot. He beat me the first time around that age too.”  
He leaned his hand to his cheek, remembering how hard the slap was on his kid’s face. It was also the first time he tasted blood, and he remembered the questioning look he gave him… why?  
He turned to Castiel who was looking at him tightening the doll in his hand so hard his fingers were white and red.  
“Slaps… punch… kicks… harder and harder…”  
He took the boy doll and placed it in front of the male doll.  
“He was beating again and again.”  
He mimed it using the dolls.  
“Our tears couldn’t stop him because he loved it so much… he was beating again and again until we were knocked-out on the floor. After a while Sam and I just faked being unconscious after a few blows just for him to stop it and go away drinking his whisky.”  
A long silence settled but Leyla didn’t interrupt.  
After a while Castiel stretched his arm and took the boy doll in his hand, looking up to Dean.  
“This is me… and this is you…”  
He showed him the man doll.  
“This is them…” he whispered.  
Castiel observed the doll a long time, it seemed he understood what Dean said and mimed, but he couldn’t find the way to move and do the same for himself. The pain was too real… the nightmares were still here haunting him.  
Leyla stood up, took a female doll and came to the bed. She handed it to Dean without a word and Castiel tensed.  
“Cas… if you don’t want to, just don’t do it, ok? You heard me? Nothing bad will happen to you, you’re safe here and I’m right here with you.”  
He bent to reach his eyes.  
“Cas… I’m right here and I won’t go.”  
Castiel slowly started to hit the boy doll on his knee. He suddenly caught the female doll, which made Dean jump… Castiel was gone somewhere else. Dean looked up at Leyla with a panic look on his face and she quickly came next to him.  
“Cas?” Dean called crouching down in front of him. “Cas!”  
Castiel put the female doll on top of the boy doll and he rubbed them together in messy and brutal moves.  
Dean understood.  
Castiel stopped and threw the dolls on the floor. He was now looking at his hands. And very quickly, without Dean or Leyla to realize what was happening, he punched his crotch hard and for the first time… he shouted out, with his hoarse and shaky voice, broken after so many years of silence, he screamed his distress out, he yelled his pain and his hate without a single tear coming down, only rage.  
Dean caught his wrists strongly to avoid him to hurt himself, and he laid him on the bed. Castiel was screaming and struggling with all the strength he could find in his distress, and Leyla pushed the emergency button.  
“Cas calm down!... Cas it’s me, Dean! Calm down damn it you’re gonna hurt yourself!”  
Dean was now leaning over him maintaining his arms on his chest, still holding his wrists tight.  
“Cas… please!” Dean pleaded in Castiel’s ear.  
Garth entered in a rush ready to act.  
“Stay where you are!” Dean yelled to him.  
Leyla stepped back near the table, Garth stepped near the bed and stopped.  
“Cas!” Dean called again.  
Castiel stopped screaming but he was breathing fast and loud.  
“Shhhh… Ok, good… calm down. I’m here.”  
He stopped struggling and stared at the ceiling, searching for the skylight that wasn’t here anymore… no beam… only white paint.  
He breathed deeper and started to calm down a little. Dean released his wrists and sat straight on the bed.  
“Cas?” Dean called again and caressed his forehead gently, pulling a hair lock back.  
He did the same thing with Sam, but his father and his ghost were not here to stop him anymore.  
“Look at me…” He said trying to catch Castiel’s shifty eyes.  
“Cas, look at me!”  
He caught his face between his hands and Leyla stepped forward, but Castiel didn’t move away, he let Dean do without reacting… he was lifeless and lost.  
Dean lifted his head a little, forcing him to meet his eyes.  
“Look at me!”  
He finally found Dean’s eyes and he begged him.  
“I know… it hurts… but she’s gone, Cas. She’s dead, you understand? You’re free and you don’t have to be scared anymore. No more attic… no more monster… and no more beating.”  
Castiel didn’t seem to understand. Dead?... what did that mean? He could still see her leaning over him, he could still see her scary smile and he could still feel the pain.  
No more beating… No more attic… no more skylight… the quiet man was gone too… he couldn’t smell him on his skin anymore.  
There was Dean… Just Dean… He stared at his green eyes… he was so tired! He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Dean refused to leave the room, he wanted to be present when Castiel would wake up. He wanted him to see a familiar face when he would open his eyes.  
Leyla put the dolls back in the box with Garth’s help. She stayed crouched down a while when she picked up the female and boy dolls. She was very surprised about Castiel’s reaction, it’s been very sudden and very intense… he literally exploded. She never saw this in more than ten years of her career… she really thought Castiel wouldn’t react at his first session.  
He was still a mystery. It was like a single image from an inanimate object opened the gate of thirty years of pain and silence.  
It also showed Castiel hated himself… his last move was the proof of it, he didn’t hit the female doll… he hit himself… with so much rage! She would have to teach him how to respect himself and his body… he would have to control his emotions too… and to love himself as he was, with his scars but also with his strengths.  
She learnt more about Castiel in an hour of therapy with Dean than she did alone in a year.  
She stood up and looked at Dean who took a chair and sat next to Castiel’s bed to watch over him. She stepped closer and handed a small box to Dean.  
“In case of emergency, just push the red button, it will turn the alarm on in the nurse’s office.”  
“I don’t need it. Thank you.”  
“Dean…” she insisted handing him the box again. “You take it or you leave the room. I can’t take any risk here. He might have another outbreak and hurt himself… or hurt you.”  
He finally took the box without looking at it.  
“I told you so… he wasn’t ready.”  
She took a step forward.  
“Oh yes he is, Dean. He finally relieved his pain, now our job is to guide him because unfortunately, he’s not done screaming his pain out.”  
“Then I’ll be here.” Dean replied, leaning his elbows on his knees.  
“We’ll be here.” Leyla added.

 

End of chapter XVIIII


	19. The weight of the scars

 

Suzanne was here, waiting patiently, glancing at her watch from time to time and staring at the Impala by the window… 7.45 pm… damn was he late! She sighed. She was about to leave when the door opened and she saw Dean.  
She couldn’t help but smiled even if she was a bit nervous… What if he was here only to tell her he wouldn’t come? … Only to be polite and apologize…  
But he was wearing a nice black shirt, black pants, and he smelled pretty good… he dressed up.  
“Sorry I’m late… I lost track of time.” He apologized looking down, a little embarrassed.  
“It’s ok… you’re here.” She replied shyly.  
“Yeah…”  
They looked like teenagers at their first date: shy, uncomfortable and clumsy.  
“Are we going? We’ll be late if we don’t move.” Dean said opening the front door.  
As he walked outside, he couldn’t help and looked up at the third floor. It was dark already, days were shorter, Dean couldn’t see if he was here or not. He felt his heart clenching again, that weird feeling he didn’t deserve to have fun while Castiel was unhappy in his room, but at the same time he had to keep living.  
He felt good with Suzanne, she wasn’t judging him and she took him with his flaws, his pain and his scars.  
He opened the car’s door for her and laughed quietly… when did he become a gentleman? She found his clumsiness cute and touching. She settled her dress and sat down in the car, and Dean looked at her before closing the door.

They didn’t talk much on the way, not that Dean didn’t want to, but he kept thinking about Castiel. The session they had a few hours ago was still in his mind and it was still painful to think about it… and it was just the beginning of the therapy. He knew Castiel wasn’t ready to share his most painful memories, he could feel it and he saw it.  
He needed to put words on his moves now, and he needed tears to ease his pain too. He could feel he was just keeping his pain locked inside and it was eating him. Leyla planned the next session on Monday afternoon, it could at least give Dean the time to clear his mind.  
Tomorrow he would take his guitar, music would relax Castiel after today’s breakout… it would relax himself too at the same time. He just wanted to find those moments back.  
He could feel Suzanne’s look on him… she knew what was bothering him. Actually the whole hospital knew what happened in room 14 that day and everyone was now praying for Castiel to win this, for Dean to hold on, and for Leyla to bring the miracle they hoped for so much: the revival of the attic boy.  
She turned towards him.  
“Sorry I’m not very good company tonight… maybe I shouldn’t have come after all.” Dean apologized.  
“It’s ok, I have to admit I’m not very talkative either… I’m a bit…” she paused and looked outside, not knowing how to finish her sentence.  
“I know… me too.” Dean added. “I’m not used to it, I mean… dates… actually it must be one of my firsts to tell you the truth.” He laughed.  
It was true, it was his first real date and he wasn’t even the one who asked her out.  
“I’m not used to it either… you can’t even imagine what it cost me to invite you out.” Suzanne confessed. “I never did that before.”  
“So why me?” Dean asked curious.  
“I don’t know, some things can’t be explained… I saw you and I thought … “it’s him.”  
She blushed and looked down. Dean smiled, he knew that feeling.  
“Thank you.” He said while the car entered the town center.  
“For what?”  
“For doing the first move that I wouldn’t dare doing.” He said looking at her. “I’m not very good with words and it’s even worse when it comes to feelings so umm… Suzie I… I…” he paused and sighed “I like you, but you must know I’m not an easy man to be with.”  
She leaned her hand on his and he gripped the wheel tighter.  
“One thing at a time, Dean. I’m not asking for you to marry me, I’m just asking for you to come with me at a concert to know you better. We’ll see how it goes.”  
“I just don’t want you to have too much hope. I like you a lot but…”  
“But what, Dean?”  
“I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”  
“I’m not asking anything from you yet, let’s take time, and if nothing has to happen between us at least we can be friends. Is that ok for you?”  
He nodded and the tension disappeared.

The rest of the evening was easier: the concert was good even if they were not professional artists, and Dean even sang along a few tracks. He explained the origin of Blues music to Suzanne who listened to him talking about his passion. It was definitely a huge part of his life. Music saved him, and his face was showing it tonight.  
When the show was over, Dean asked Suzanne if she wanted to go to eat something and she accepted with a bit too much enthusiasm which made her blush once more. He couldn’t help but find her cute. She was down-to-earth, pure and had beautiful eyes.  
Suddenly Nina’s face came in his mind… he was surprised and wondered why but it was obvious she was the one who taught him to love. They had long discussion after angry sex… they revealed each other, they talked about everything… and Dean realized he missed her at that moment.  
He was lost. Nina… Suzie?  
Suzie noticed something was wrong when she saw Dean’s expression changing.  
“Dean?”  
He jumped. “Sorry…” he whispered. “I was thinking about someone…”  
“Castiel?” she asked.  
“No.”

They found a small Italian restaurant across the main street, with typical red and white round tables.  
Dean was quiet again and Suzanne looked at him eating his lasagna wondering who he thought about earlier. His attitude changed after that.  
She took a bit of her tomato/mozzarella salad.  
“Who is your mind with, Dean?”  
He looked up at her, surprised by her question.  
“Be honest with me, please.” She pleaded.  
“A woman…” he answered hesitantly putting his fork down.  
“I uhhh… ummm… I … frequent prostitutes…Suzie… you have to know. Well I did a lot… before.”  
She let him talk, pushing her plate away.  
“I never knew how to love a woman. I’d rather pay a prostitute than hurt a woman, it’s easier. I had nothing to offer.”  
“What changed?”  
He gave her a questioning look.  
“You’re using past tense…” she said leaning her chin on her hand.  
“I met a prostitute… well actually I can’t even call her that way even if I’m still paying for her.” He confessed sadly. “She taught me how to love and how to respect a woman. She listened to me.”  
“What’s her name?” she asked feeling a lump in her throat.  
“Nina… I don’t even know if it’s her real name.” he said sarcastically taking his fork back. “I don’t know why I’m talking about her to you, it’s rude. Let’s talk about you instead.”  
“Dean…” she leaned her hand on his, seeing he was twisting his fingers nervously. “You should ask her real name.”  
“Suzie…”  
“Before planning something with me, you should see what you want from her, Dean.”  
“There’s no future with her, she likes her job and her life.”  
“She told you?”  
“Yes.” He said with his mouth full. “I can’t say I love her. I’m attached to her and I like what she represents to me.”  
“I understand… but I wonder how much you like her.” She smiled sadly.  
“I don’t know, Suzie. I’ve never loved someone. I mean…”  
“I know what you mean.” She assured him.  
“I feel something for you… and I feel something for her. I’m just lost. It was easier when I couldn’t feel anything.”  
“You’ve changed a lot these last months. So many things happened in your life, it’s normal you’re lost, you’re learning how to live your new life.”  
“No Suzie… I just learn how to live.” He met her eyes.  
Right now he just wanted to kiss her, to taste her lips, but he did nothing. She smiled, she understood, and her heart broke a little.  
“Can we go for a walk?” she suggested. “It’s not too cold we should take advantage of it.”  
“Good idea.” Dean smiled.  
“We’ll talk about what you want, or we won’t talk. You chose.”  
“Thanks.” He replied calling the waiter.

 

They walked along the river for a while without talking too much, but they were fine with it. Not knowing exactly how they ended up there tonight, Dean leaned his arm around Suzie’s shoulder, and she leaned hers around Dean’s waist.  
He drove her back to her place later, she wasn’t living in St Gerry. She smiled at him when they were in front of her door and when he leaned towards her she put a finger on his lips, and then slid her hand to cup his cheek.  
“I had a great night, thank you.”  
“Thank you, Suzie.”  
“See you tomorrow?”  
“Sure.”  
She took her hand off his cheek and brushed his lips with her finger before coming in. Dean touched his lips confused. He would’ve loved kissing her and he realized he hadn’t thought about Nina since their conversation in the restaurant. He only thought about how right it felt to be with Suzanne and it was really new to him. It was exciting and scary at the same time.  
For the first time in his life, he thought maybe he might be falling for someone.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Nina opened her eyes and saw the lover of the night, a man in his forties, one of her oldest clients. She caressed his cheek and he smiled at her. He had nice green eyes. She made love to him without looking away from them, they looked like Dean’s eyes.  
It would be so simple in other circumstances, but here it was just an improbable love.  
She got up, went to the bathroom, closed the door behind her, sat on the edge of the bathtub and cried. She needed to end this, she would be and forever stay Nina, she would never be Jo the cheeky southern girl again.  
She couldn’t love him, she just loved what Jo would’ve loved, but Jo died a long time ago.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean fell asleep listening to Castiel breathing. He woke up after midnight feeling a hand on his shoulder and jumped. He saw Armand in the dark room.  
“Damn it, dude! Don’t do that! I almost punched you!” he whispered angrily.  
“Sorry.” Armand said smiling. “It’s almost 1 am, Dean. You should go to bed now.”  
“I can’t leave him.”  
“I won’t be far, you need to rest, he will need you tomorrow.”  
Dean looked at the shadow sleeping in the bed.  
“Right…” he stood up frowning, the position he’d slept in wasn’t the most comfortable. “You’ll call me if something is up right?” he asked Armand.  
“Yes, Doctor Winchester.” He joked.  
Dean laughed quietly “Sorry, man.”  
He rubbed his sore neck and remembered Armand was part of the medical staff so he shouldn’t worry.  
“I’m going.”  
“Goodnight, Dean.”  
“Thanks.”

He couldn’t fall asleep… he was staring at the ceiling living the previous therapy session again, Castiel’s explosion and his breakout were so sudden and brutal.  
He knew that sensation though… he hated himself too. Torturers have the power to make you believe that it’s your fault, or that you want it.  
Dean survived holding on to Sam and the few people that were lights in the darkness… But how did Cas survive all alone in his attic? He couldn’t get it, it was overwhelming to even try to understand.  
He curled up in his bed, he was still wearing his clothes, he only took his shoes off.  
He closed his eyes and he heard Castiel’s scream again.  
He woke up in sweat and looked at his alarm clock… 5.30 am.  
He really fell asleep.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He took a quick shower, ate his breakfast in a rush and started his shift early.  
He talked a bit with Sylvana that day. She was a young woman in her twenties who had no visits. She drowned her little sister… to save her. Sylvana was a victim of collective rapes for 10 years, they took place even in her family. She saved Lucy after her uncle raped her for the first time too, she was only 2 years old.  
They found her in the morning, the small dead body of her sister in her arms. Sylvana was 16 when it happened, and she died with her sister that day.  
Dean liked her since the first time he met her. She was blank-staring most of the time but he could read the distress in her eyes anyway. She wasn’t talking and people had to guide her to move. She had long blond hair and she often caressed them distractively.  
Dean was surprised to see alcohol and human cruelty made more victims than madness. This place was full of Sams, but he learnt how to see things from a new perspective and was searching only for good memories.  
Sylvana had nobody, she hold on to her sister like Dean did with Sam, and they tried to save their loved ones from the indifference of the world… without success. But death was a solution among others. Who could judge them? When you don’t live hell you can’t understand what it’s like, you can’t understand that need to become the demon that hides inside you, and the need to run from it even if it’s through death.  
Dean thought about Castiel and the only solutions he found: the skylight and the birds. He killed a part of himself to be safe and all they were doing now was to wake that part up like you would open a coffin. Dean felt nervous thinking about it.

 

He went to Leyla before going to Castiel again, and he talked to her about his fear and his doubts.  
“Maybe we should wait, he’s still in shock and it’s going too fast for him.”  
“Dean, we need to take advantage of his reactions, he has to talk, we can’t take the risk to lose him again.”  
“We will kill him.” Dean sighed and stopped in front of room 14.  
“If he doesn’t come to us, we won’t force him to. He knows how to act to communicate with us now, let him do as he wants.”  
Dean nodded and secretly wished Castiel wouldn’t move from his window today.  
When they entered the room he was sitting on his bed, turning his back to them because he was looking outside, sinking his eyes in the cloudless sky. It looked like he was waiting for them. Leyla saw Dean’s shoulder crashing again.  
“Hello, Castiel.” She greeted before putting the dolls box on a chair.  
Dean stepped closer and sat next to him.  
“Hi, Cas.”  
He was sitting so straight he looked like he’d been petrified.  
“You wanna talk today? Just like we did yesterday…” Leyla proposed and Dean looked away.  
He saw Castiel looking down and noticed he was twisting his fingers nervously.  
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you understand?”  
Leyla finished placing the dolls on the table and felt his look on her. She turned around and met his eyes, his face half hidden by Dean. She smiled at him and put the box back on the floor, then she sat and waited.  
Dean felt very uncomfortable. He was leaning his elbows on his knees, he couldn’t pronounce a word. He wouldn’t move today, no question. Castiel’s scream was still resonating in his mind, his pain piercing his ear.

After a while Castiel stood up and Dean sighed deeply, he was almost disappointed. Leyla straightened on her chair.  
Castiel stood still in front of the table for a moment, observing the dolls without paying much attention. Dean turned around to look what he would do. Castiel extended his arm and leaned his hand over a male doll, but he refused to go further and finally took the same female doll than the day before. He observed it intensely like he was searching for any resemblance between the doll and her, but he couldn’t find it: the doll’s eyes were lifeless, but her eyes were always full of frustrated anger. He always felt he was the source of all her frustrations when she was looking at him, and it was upsetting her even more.  
The days without lifted hands and bad words were very rare. She never looked at him with compassion… or maybe she did but he couldn’t or wouldn’t want to remember. It was useless to remember that anyway, his body was the proof of her hate. He didn’t deserve any attention from her.  
He gripped the female doll tight and picked the boy up too. He also looked at it a long time. His body was perfect, his eyes were empty and lifeless and he had colorful clothes.  
Castiel put the female doll down and undressed the boy doll clumsily. Once again he tried to search for something but couldn’t find it, his look was lost in the naked doll.  
He put the boy down too and started lifting his shirt slowly. Dean stood up and stepped closer but Leyla lifted her hand to stop him.  
Castiel remembered the heat of the whip and touched the scar on his right hip. That day he curled up and she hit over and over again at the same spot which made his flesh rip and blood splashed on her face. She wiped her face out of breath, and hit the whip on her leg messing up her dress. She then left leaving him panting on the floor with his deep and bloody wound.  
He was caressing his scar remembering the pain and he frowned.  
He turned his head, trying to look at his back. He knew each of his pain graved in his body, and could still taste blood in his mouth. He took his shirt off making weird noises.  
Dean looked at him desperate but Leyla was still ordering for him to not move.  
Castiel gripped his shirt tight in his hands and twisted it like he wanted to make him disappear between his hands.  
Dean was staring at Castiel’s back and stepped back… it was full of deep scars, like he’d been whipped a thousand times. When he looked at Leyla who was in front of Castiel, he figured it was be the same on his chest.  
Castiel threw his shirt away and took the boy doll back. And here it happened again… in a movement of intense rage he crashed the boy against the female doll and didn’t stop hitting them together so hard that one of the doll’s head broke and flew across the room. He couldn’t stop hitting again and again.  
Dean wanted to run toward him but Leyla gave him a look that stopped him. He was raging inside… he wanted to run to him and lift his own shirt to show him his own scars. He wanted to hug him so bad, but he wondered who he wanted to comfort at that moment… Castiel or himself? Probably both. He just wanted to mix their pains.  
Castiel was still hitting the dolls together and soon all that was left in his hands was the leg of the female doll and the armless boy. He was about to collapse as exhausted as he was, but his look fell on the table. He released the dolls (or what was left of them) from his hands and stepped forward, eyes locked on the male doll and he stepped back, his face growing pale.  
Dean felt he was closing himself again. He was standing here, staring at that doll, shirtless, carrying the weight of his scars, shivering from cold and rage. Dean bent to pick his shirt up and stepped toward Castiel who was breathing heavily, and he was in sweat. He wanted to cry but held his tears back.  
“Cas?” he called softly.  
“Cas… look at me.”  
Castiel turned towards him.  
“Come on” Dean said pointing at the bed.  
Castiel sat down and didn’t move. Dean showed the shirt and smiled to let Castiel know he didn’t want to harm. He put his shirt back on and Castiel had no reaction, he was gone. Dean crouched down in front of him.  
“Cas… look…” Dean said touching Castiel’s knee to catch his attention, and he finally looked at him.  
Dean lifted his own shirt to his shoulders, revealing the huge scar left after his father threw him on the glass closet. Castiel tilted his head and after a moment of hesitation, he extended his arm and touched the deep scar from his fingertips, and then he sank his eyes in Dean’s look… he wasn’t alone… they were sharing the same scars… they were carrying the same weight…  
He leaned his hand back on his knee and Dean lowered his shirt back. He smiled at him… everything was said.  
He sat with Castiel on the bed while Leyla picked the pieces of broken dolls. He was a bit sad… he knew it, but knowing is different from seeing. Not him… not Cas!  
Leyla left the room but Dean stayed with Castiel, they stayed here quiet. He was already nervous about the next session… the one where he would try to put real words on his anger.  
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and Monday would be the point of no return.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He remembered Suzanne’s proposition and hesitated a long time… it would be a huge step toward the unknown for him.  
He looked in the mirror and lifted his shirt… it was time to heal.  
There are wounds that never disappear but leave a mark on the flesh forever, but to avoid them to destroy even your soul, you need to put the bandage off to let them heal.  
The waking pain hurts but it makes us human beings.  
Suzanne and her soft voice… her deep look… maybe she was the chance to take to heal and go forward.

 

End of chapter XIX


	20. Behind the door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning ... explicit evocation of rape in this chapter

 

 Dean was sitting on the front stairs, his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, when the door behind him opened.

He heard footsteps and smelt a perfume he would’ve recognized among thousands… Suzanne. She sat next to him without saying a word, she just wanted to be with him. He stayed quiet too and didn’t react to her presence, keeping his position and tightening his head like he was afraid it would explode.  
He refused to turn towards her so he closed his eyes, and suddenly the whole scene came back in his mind, like a movie he would watch again, breaking his heart.  
“Shit!”  
She came closer to him and leaned her hand on his shoulder, pulling him gently close to her. He let her do and for the first time, he cried in silence to let the pain go away. He was still hiding between his arms, but he accepted Suzanne’s arms around him too, like she could hold him back. They stayed liked that a long moment, Dean was lost in his sadness and Suzanne just wanted to be here for him. She wanted to carry his pain with him: his stolen youth and Castiel’s hell revealed.  
He finally looked up and stared at his Impala, still quiet. He was trying to regain control of his emotions, refusing to show a broken face to Suzanne. He wiped the tears away from his cheeks and chin, trying in vain to erase the tired features of his face’s expression. He took a deep breath and straightened up.  
Suzanne stayed quiet the whole time, she knew... she could feel it wasn’t the good time to speak or to try to make him talk. It was already enough for him to cry in front of her.  
He stood up but she stayed sit.  
“Up for a drink?” he suddenly asked, almost whispering.  
Suzanne jumped.  
“A drink?”  
“Yeah.” He replied without turning around.  
“Okay… let me take my purse and we can go.”  
“You won’t need your purse. Let’s go.”  
She hesitated a minute, surprised by Dean’s tone but she finally followed him. He went to his car without looking at her.  
He didn’t speak the whole way, his eyes were still red and his face was swollen. She noticed he was biting on his lip not to break down again.

 

He stopped the car at the end of the town, in a still roadside diner. That’s what he needed: an empty place far from St Gerry Hall, far from what marked him forever, and far from all the emotions that destroyed him and brought the old Dean back… the old Dean that let his emotions guide his and his brother’s life, the Dean that had enough strength to live for two. He regretted losing him sometimes, but right now he just found him back.  
He chose a table in the back of the diner and Suzanne followed him without a word. She remembered Leyla, she saw her in the lobby but she didn’t pay attention to her, she seemed to be as lost as Dean was, and she understood something decisive happened with Castiel.  
Dean sat in front of her, he was looking outside to the horizon, that point of no return.  
“Hello! May I help you?” the waitress smiled, ready to take the order.  
“Do you have apple pie?” Dean asked still looking outside.  
“Yes.” She answered looking at him through the reflection in the window.  
“I’ll have that and a coffee.”  
“Alright. And for you?” she said turning to Suzanne who smiled at her.  
“Same, please.”  
“Okay. 2 coffees and 2 apple pies.” She confirmed and stepped away.  
Dean looked down.  
“So… what happened?” Suzanne dared asking.  
“Nothing.” He looked at her “I just wanna be with you. That’s all.”  
“Dean?”  
“Suzie please…” he said looking back down.  
“Fine…”  
The waitress came back and served them.  
“Here you are. Enjoy!”  
“Thank you.” Suzanne smiled.  
Dean picked his fork up, and when he was ready to take a bite of his pie, he suddenly put it back down and let the words out without being able to stop talking. Suzanne didn’t interrupt, his mind was far away.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He spent the afternoon is Castiel’s room and brought a chocolate bar with nuts to him, Phil said it was his favorite. He stood with him at the window, sharing the moment that he missed so much these past days. He was just with him, for him, looking outside in the same direction.  
Castiel ate without looking at Dean, with no reactions, he was gone.  
Dean finally sat on the bed and took his guitar, that’s when he felt Castiel coming back and looking at him through the reflection.  
“What do you want today? Rock? Folk? Blues?”  
Dean played some notes just to get in the mood, and then words came along.  
Johnny Cash song resonated in the room and in the corridor… “Hurt”.  
Dean was focused on his guitar, his eyes closing from time to time, entranced by the melody. When he looked up Castiel had turned around to look at him. He finally found this look he missed so much these past days and he couldn’t help but smiled.  
Castiel stepped forward and sat straight next to him, his hand on his thighs, staring to the window, and Dean started to sing again. It was a nice and still afternoon, lost in Johnny Cash’s songs.  
When Dean put his guitar down on the bed, he prayed for Castiel to stay by his side, and he prayed for Monday to never come. They stayed like this a long moment before the door opened and Garth came in with Castiel’s dinner.  
Dean stood up a bit disappointed and turned to Cas who hadn’t moved.  
“Hey, Cas? See you on Monday?”  
Castiel turned to look at him and met his eyes, and Dean could see them smiling. Garth put the plate down on the table and Dean left.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

The day after, Dean went to his storage room and listened to old music playing in the old player. He was sitting on a suitcase full of memories, but he never opened it. He kept with him only the small box in his car’s trunk, a piece of Sam.  
He had a few drinks in that place he was visiting more and more. He made peace with his past, he was now living the present and looking towards the future… in a few days, his job in St Gerry Hall would be over.  
Mary told him she couldn’t hire him, but she proposed him to keep living in his place there, he could do some maintenance in the mansion while he’d search for a new job. Dean accepted, he had some money at the bank and at least he would still have a place to live and something to eat. And of course he could stay with Castiel a little longer.  
He didn’t want to leave St Gerry, he didn’t want to leave the patients he cared about… he didn’t want to leave Garth, Missouri, Leyla, Armand, Melvin or Mary… he didn’t want to leave Suzanne… and he certainly didn’t want to leave Castiel.  
He would accept anything Mary would offer him to stay in this place, it became his home. These walls freed him, they saved him!  
He couldn’t sleep to well that night, he was haunted by Castiel’s look on the dolls… and by the scars on his back, revealing how much his soul should be damaged. He was nervous thinking Castiel would have to meet his demons on Monday.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Leyla entered and Dean followed with a serious face, marked by worry and lack of sleep.  
Castiel was standing at the window and Dean wanted to scream to make him stay there. He needed to know he didn’t have to open that door if he didn’t want to… Dean knew what was behind… he perceived a few of it. He sighed and went next to him.  
“Hey, Cas.” He said with a hoarse voice.  
He glanced at Leyla organizing the dolls… she changed something and he didn’t like that. On the right there were two dolls: a boy and a man, both wearing white pajamas, the same Castiel wore all the time.  
On the left: a female and a male doll. Leyla places other male dolls next to those ones. Dean stepped away, Leyla felt his look on her and gave him a sad smile.  
Dean never thought about that… it was just surreal! Where did Leyla find that possibility? Just from a look on two dolls? It was a new nightmare in his endless hell.  
He begged her with his eyes, but she placed four male dolls and put the box down. Dean shook his head no, begging her one more time.  
He turned around to look at Castiel, and he sank in his look. Right now he could flee… hell had borders too… it couldn’t be that awful.  
Castiel turned around to look outside again. He followed a bird’s flight with his eyes and when they disappeared in the horizon, he turned to Leyla. He stepped forward hesitantly and tilted his head when he saw how the dolls were placed on the table. He stared at the one looking like him, and then he took it in his hand after a few seconds of hesitation.  
Dean was leaning against the window, observing in silence, gripping the edge of the window. Minutes passed by, they held their breath, and Castiel took the male doll with shaky hands.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Ralph was standing in front of him with his empty look, and his hanging lower lip making his mouth look huge. Ralph was tall… so tall he had to bend to be able to walk pass the central beam of the attic. He was also very large… so large he was hiding the sun when he was standing in front of him, leaving a huge shadow on the floor.  
She stepped forward and ordered him to lay down on his bed in a firm tone that no one would challenge. He obeyed, she bent over him and took his pants down. He tensed… he knew was would happen as she’s been already caressing him for a few days… since the day she surprised him doing it alone. But she never did anything more than caressing… yet.  
Ralph’s look changed when he saw his naked body exposed… he could feel the danger and tried to stand up but she stopped him. He tried to push her away but the man already put his hands on his shoulders to maintain him. That wasn’t fair, he was too skinny and too weak to fight… plus he was still a child.  
She stayed here watching. It was the first time but she would always stay to watch after that day.  
He never forgot that first time. Ralph pulled his pants down and quickly lifted him from his bed to enter him. He screamed in pain, he begged the man to stop… he would forever remember the smell of his sweat. The man leaned his hand on his shoulder, still pushing with all his strengths inside his child’s body. He came quickly and pulled himself out of his body, which made him scream in pain one more time, the pain was unbearable. He thought he knew all sorts of pains, but this one was new and it was the worst he even felt.  
This was just the beginning of one more thing to add in hell. Ralph came back every month, still with her. He endured it, and the more he was enduring it, the more he hated himself. She never gave any limit to Ralph’s fantasies: The man did everything he could imagine to him, without any caution and without ever caring about the boy he was raping. He was just an object of pleasure for him, and he couldn’t rebel as strong as the man was.  
He finally had to let it happen without fighting, which disappointed her as she enjoyed seeing him struggling so much. It never stopped, even when he became an adult, and each time, it was a nameless pain.  
After Ralph’s visits he was always laying flat on his stomach for a few hours, not managing to move to find a position that would ease the pain just a little. He thought he lived the worst he could endure, but she always found new tortures to prove him wrong.

 

One day she came in with a white haired man who had sparkles in his eyes as soon as he saw him… same look as Ralph.  
“So?” she asked with an evil look on her face.  
“Perfect.” He searched in his pocket and took what only seemed to be some green papers out of it.  
She took them quickly.  
“You have 30 minutes.”  
She handed him the whip.  
“If he’s not enough submissive…”  
He accepted it smiling.  
“I’ll be quiet.” She said smiling too and stepping back in the shadow.

She had internet installed in the house later… her perversion was so demanding that she had to find new ways to satisfy it no matter how.  
She caressed the cross hanging on her neck and stared at the screen. Ralph satisfied her, she liked seeing them together. But he hadn’t touched her anymore for a long time, he took the control of his desire… and she found a new way to satisfy her needs. But Ralph was dead now, and the attic boy was not reacting to her touch anymore… but God gave her a new way to domesticate him.  
The man stepped forward so he stepped back in panic.  
“Come here sweety… I won’t hurt you… I’ll please you.”  
He searched for her but she was gone. The man stepped closer. He was curled up against the wall, expecting the worst… pain… over and over again. But this one was different… it was a disgusting pain, and if he thought he couldn’t hate himself even more, he was wrong.  
The man pulled his pants down revealing his erection.  
“Suck.”  
He didn’t understand what he meant and stared at him confused. The man hit the whip on his leg.  
“SUCK!” he yelled grabbing his hair brutally, forcing him to bend on his shaft.  
The man beat him, but he was not a child anymore: he pushed him away. The man laughed swaying, lifted the whip and hit him again and again, avoiding his face as she was told.  
He would not let it happen again! He caught the whip with one hand and tried to pull it, but he had no time to make another move: the man punched him so hard his head hit the wall behind him. He tried to stand up, but he was too dizzy and fell on the bed. The man stepped closer, grabbed his hair and forced him to sit down.  
“Now… suck!”  
He showed him how to do by placing a finger in his mouth and sucking at it gently. At that moment he understood what he was asked to do.  
He thought maybe that kind of pain would be less intense than the beating… but he was wrong again. He almost threw up several times because the man pushed his head to go deeper in his throat, and when finally he came in his mouth, he pulled away quickly. The man sighed deeply, his eyes closed, and smiled.  
He turned around and threw up… he would be forever damned in his hell, and he created his own world. From now it would be one dead body and one surviving soul.

Rapes were part of his life in the attic, several times a month, until her torturer died. He hid them deep in his prison and only Ralph was still here in his nightmares.  
But suddenly, the door opened on his memories, bringing them into his present. The doll was standing in front of the door… and then…

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Castiel breathed deeply and irregularly, like he was drowning. He realized he just mimed all those damned memories using the dolls. Without even noticing it, he revealed himself and the part of him that was eating him from the inside. He just opened the door on his subconscious.  
He felt his legs becoming weak, and the room was turning around him. He was dizzy and nauseous… he felt all his muscles relaxing, and then tensing… then they relaxed again, and tensed one more time, again and again. It was painful. His whole body let go, even his bladder, and he felt like he was purging himself from all the horror he lived, all the stranger’s bodies that corrupted him.  
He closed his eyes tight and screamed is pain with all his lungs. All those years of hell were tearing his body up, and he punched even if there was nothing in front of him, like he wanted to chase everything away.  
Leyla was totally broken, and Dean was petrified in shock. They realized Castiel was a slave all his life, and he was nothing but a shadow with no importance that nobody cared about. He was an object people could use for their pleasure or their madness.

Castiel fell on his knees, he had trouble breathing, and his pants were all dirty.  
Dean ran to him and took his face between his hands. He couldn’t stop screaming.  
“Cas! Cas! Look at me! It’s over! OVER!”  
Castiel opened his eyes and saw Ralph right in front of him.  
He rushed toward Dean and tackled him on the floor. He straddled him and started to hit so hard and with so much rage that it shocked Dean and he couldn’t do anything, so he let him hit. He saw Leyla taking the emergency box.  
“NO! Leyla don’t!” He screamed protecting his face from Castiel’s rage.  
He was used to it and he knew Castiel had to hit his rage out. He knew that sensation too well: the rage took all the place.  
Suddenly Castiel froze, his fist hanging over Dean’s face, and he met his eyes. He stepped back, horrified.  
He looked at himself, frowning when he saw his dirty clothes. He stared at his bloody hands and stared at Leyla with a skeptical look.  
Dean sat painfully, whipped the blood out of his face, and spitted the blood out of his mouth.  
Castiel looked at him terrorized and crawled to go curl up against the wall.  
Dean stepped closer to him.  
“Cas… it’s nothing… nothing at all.” He said in a soft voice.  
He knelt down in front of him and looked into his blue eyes full of terror.  
“Cas… I’m here… I’m right here.”  
Castiel put his arms around his knees, tightening them as strong as he could. Dean extended his arm to his face, Castiel rejected him brutally but he insisted. He struggled but Dean caught his wrists.  
“Cas, ENOUGH!”  
He froze, petrified after hearing Dean’s bossy voice.  
“Look at me!”  
Castiel looked away towards Leyla’s direction. Dean released his wrists and forced him to look at him, taking his chin in his hand.  
“It’s over, Cas. I will never let anyone hurt you anymore, you understand?” Never.”  
Castiel froze, and suddenly his eyes were full of tears… and he broke down.  
Dean instinctively hugged him and Castiel didn’t resist, leaning his head on his shoulder, crying in his neck, he let go of his distress, his rage, his sorrow, and his life full of pain. He gripped Dean’s shirt, holding on to it with all his strength like he was his anchor to not be lost again.  
“It’s over, Cas.”  
Dean leaned his hand on his head, holding him tight and caressing his hair. He would talk to him till he would calm down.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Suzanne listened without interrupting and felt a tear rolling down her cheek. She quickly whipped it.  
Dean was now very quiet, staring at the table. He stood up and left the restaurant, and she didn’t know why but her instinct told her to not follow him. He probably needed to be alone.  
She pulled her plate but couldn’t eat anymore. She looked outside and wondered how many Castiels were still out there suffering and waiting for deliverance. How many children were still victims of rapes without anybody to worry about it? Why?  
Why God let it happen? They’re innocent, they didn’t do anything wrong… aren’t they his children too? Isn’t he supposed to help them when nobody else can?  
Dean told her about Castiel’s fascination for birds and she liked to think it was here a manifestation of God… she sighed… God looked at him and didn’t do anything.  
She grabbed the cross hanging around her neck.  
Jesus-Christ suffered too… it seems like God didn’t learn anything from the past of his children. He’s not perfect… there are still monsters… but why?

The door opened and Dean came back. She looked at him as he sat down, his eyes were red and swollen again, and his eyebrow was still wounded… he didn’t treat it, she just noticed.  
He started eating his pie without looking at her. He drank his coffee and threw some money on the table before standing up to leave.  
Suzanne followed.  
When he arrived near his car, he turned around and looked at her. He stepped close to her and suddenly took her face in his hands to crash on her lips. She was so surprised she had no reaction for a few seconds, and then she responded to his kiss. It was soft and full of despair at the same time… he tasted good.  
He broke the kiss and held her tight in his arms. She could feel the pain inside him but this time, he wasn’t alone. He would never be alone again.  
Castiel found Dean, and Dean found Suzanne.  
Life could go on… maybe.

 

End of the chapter XX


	21. The wakening

 

 

The following weeks were hard for Dean: Castiel fell in deep depression and never left his bed, he was eating because people forced him to. He was pretty much sleeping the whole day. He lost weight a lot, and the worst part for Dean was that he lost the little sparkle of life in his eyes, the only thing they could share, and he felt like they lost their special connection.  
Dean was also officially jobless now, but he still lived in his St Gerry’s place and was doing maintenance jobs, repairs, plumber, electricity, painting or gardening, just like Mary asked him. He could do anything and Mary couldn’t afford to pay a full-time professional, plus she didn’t want to let Dean go now. She knew he was still fragile despite what he could pretend.  
Legally Dean was renting a cheap room in St Gerry and it would last only a time as it was a hospital and not a place to live, but nothing really changed in Dean’s habits after he finished his job. He wasn’t cleaning rooms anymore and Mary was not paying him anymore, but he had only personal expenses since everything else was in St Gerry’s charge, even the laundry, and Dean couldn’t complain. The money he raised thanks to the Cage was enough for him, he would see later what he would do in the future.

He asked Mary the authorization to visit the patients he cared the most about and she accepted. Nothing could forbid it, anyone could visit patients even if for most of them nobody would come. It was almost like their social and family life stopped the day they entered St Gerry Hall. The gates closed on their madness.  
Mary could feel he needed to be here. Castiel’s depression was something very hard for him to handle, he felt like he lost him one more time and Mary could read the guilt in his eyes, she also could read anger and a part of the rage he left behind a few months ago. He felt guilty because he helped Castiel opening up to the world, and he was mad at Leyla because she didn’t listen to him when he warned her it was going too fast for Castiel.  
He could still feel the weight of sadness and pain in Castiel’s tears, when he cried for a long moment in his arms… He could still feel him gripping his shirt, and letting it go when he fell asleep.  
The day after it was all over. Dean wished he could find back the intensity of his blue eyes on him, but it was too late.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean was always waiting outside during Castiel’s sessions: Garth put a chair in the corridor, in front of room 14 and he would wait here while Mary and Leyla were inside. He wanted to be here if Castiel would wake up from his silence.  
When they were stepping out of the room they would see him, but they wouldn’t look at him, and when he asked questions about Castiel, they answered vaguely. But he knew it was worse and worse every day.  
They pretended they had to respect the patient’s privacy… professional confidentiality… all he could see was they just needed to hide their inability to get him out of this depression.  
When Dean entered the room, he wished he would see him standing at the window, even if he was locked in his own world, he was living in his own way. He hated the day he went to ask for Leyla’s help. He hated the fact he failed again. He wanted to scream because he couldn’t do anything about it.  
Why did he find the courage to get out of his pain but not Castiel? Why did Castiel or Sam got no chance?  
He stepped forward and grabbed a chair to sit down next to him. Castiel wasn’t sleeping, he was just blank-staring, he was thinner and thinner and his face was lifeless. He bent over and asked him to fight, like he always did since that day, he asked him to come back, but like every time, Castiel didn’t react.  
He stepped back and noticed Castiel was certainly lost in his memories. What was he thinking about? What was going on behind the walls of his silence? He couldn’t perceive anything and realized their connection was broken. His body was here but not his soul. Disappointment, pain, sadness and fatalism took advantage of hope and broke the connection.

He didn’t know that Castiel was actually fighting to come back, he was holding on Dean’s presence, but Dean was more and more distant. He hurt so bad and he wanted to tell him he was not dead, he was just trying to break another wall, but this time he had to fight on his own.

Dean was often going to Suzanne after his visits: They would have a coffee and talk about anything but Castiel. Dean closed that door and he didn’t want to open it again. She knew it had to come from him.  
They were seeing each other several times a week. Sometimes only a few minutes in the refectory, eating in silence, and sometimes they would go out for a walk for a few hours, just to be together. Their kisses became more and more passionate but Dean didn’t go further. He wanted to, but he forbade himself to.  
He stopped seeing Nina and when he told Suzanne about it, she just smiled and kissed him. Eventually she tried to lean a hand on Dean’s obvious desire, but each time he would stop her. They had no choice but to satisfy their physical needs alone.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Castiel fell into depression two months ago… That’s what Dean was thinking about, lost in his thoughts and looking at his plate, when Garth arrived, took a chair and sat next to him without even asking.  
“He ate… he ate everything today.” He said just like that with a huge smile on his face.  
“What?” Dean asked in a whisper.  
“He ate everything and he did it on his own… for the first time for weeks! He swallowed his whole plate, Dean!” He repeated laughing.  
“Garth…” Dean almost begged.  
“I would never lie to you about something so important, dude, you know it!”  
“Holy shit!” Dean smiled and leaned his back on his chair, pulling a hand in his hair, relieved. “So he didn’t give up?” he asked.  
“Nope… looks like he didn’t!” Garth smiled. “If he had, Mary would’ve transferred him in a hospital anyway.”  
Garth bent over the table.  
“We have to wait a little longer before jumping of happiness but Mary says it’s a big step. We’ll know more about it this afternoon, I guess.”  
Dean’s face changed.  
“You know, it’s not because they don’t want to talk about it with you that you have to imagine the worst.”  
“Yeah right… professional confidentiality.” Dean said sarcastically. “They didn’t care about that when I was the only one that could interact with him.”  
“He opened up thanks to you… but now it’s the doctors’ job to go on with the therapy. They were honest with you when you started this, you knew it would happen. You don’t even imagine the risks they took when they accepted you as a member of his recovery process.”  
“Yes. I do.” He sighed.  
“You’re frustrated, I know… but I told you it would be long. Keep in mind nothing would’ve been possible without you, and even if we haven’t win yet, you’re the main part of his recovery.”  
“He will never completely heal from all this. How could he?” Dean said sadly. “We can’t even imagine what happened to him. When we think he showed us the worst part, he finds something even worse.”  
“I know, Dean… but we have to keep believing.”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Castiel’s look was still empty but he gained weight and was eating almost correctly now. Mary was full of hope.  
When Dean was seeing Leyla getting out of his room, he was always very intrigued about a small box she was always carrying. She would sometimes go out with a smile, and sometimes with a sad expression on her face.  
Nobody would talk to him about Castiel’s evolution though…  
When he was coming in the room after them, he was now finding him sitting at the table staring at the wall in front of him, and it was killing him more and more. He was lifeless with him but apparently he was reacting with Leyla or Mary. Why didn’t he want his help anymore? Why was he rejecting him now?  
Dean felt his heart break and that day he wouldn’t stay more than five minutes. He got out of the room quickly, took his car and disappeared for the rest of the day.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

The day after, he crossed Leyla’s way and she asked him to meet her in her office. They hadn’t talked much since the awful Monday session: just a few greetings to be polite, but Dean was getting aggressive and she understood why.  
“Sit down, Dean.” She said.  
The small box was on her desk. Dean sat down casually.  
“We need to talk.” She began.  
“I don’t want to.” He replied clenching his teeth.  
“I know you’re mad at me and I’m pretty sure you’re mad at yourself even more… am I wrong?”  
“Why would you care? What will it change if I talk to you? I lost him! We all lost him and this is our fault… mainly mine. I wanted to get him out of his fake reality but he was better in it than he is now in ours!”  
“You don’t really believe what you’re saying, do you?”  
“He’s dead…” he said in a broken voice.  
“He’s in therapy, Dean, and you insist on visiting him after each of our sessions. What did I tell you a thousand times?”  
“I can’t…” he replied.  
“You’re deeply attached to him and he knows it. How did you expect him to react with you after what happened?”  
He looked up suddenly.  
“Is he mad at me? Is that what you mean?”  
“Dean… Castiel spent his whole life hating himself. His own body and his own life have absolutely no importance to him. He held on to you as his only hope because you looked at him like he was human and not like he was sick.”  
“I still do!” he defended.  
“Really? Are you sure about that?”  
He looked at her in confusion. She bent over her desk and took the box.  
“In this box there are pictures from children games. He associated them to rebuild the puzzle of his hell.”  
“Wait… Cas did what? You’re talking about zombie Cas who doesn’t react anymore?” he asked in shock pointing at the door.  
“He started reacting again a few days ago, indeed.”  
“But…” Dean paused and Leyla could read the distress in his eyes.  
“You wonder why he doesn’t react with you?” She said opening the box. “That’s because he’s scared, Dean.”  
“Scared? Scared of what, DAMN IT! I’ve always been here for him!” he sounded furious, sad and bitter.  
“He’s scared that you’d reject him… and to tell you the truth he’s afraid you already did.” She stated picking up a picture of Dean from the file Deveraux gave to Mary.  
Dean frowned and came closer. She then picked a picture of Castiel, the one taken after he was transferred in St Gerry Hall and that the FBI used to try to find something about his past.

Of course they never found anything as it was written in his last record. It was like he never had a life, and they even thought he was sold or abandoned to her torturer. The DNA didn’t help either, Castiel was a ghost and the FBI let go of the case.  
“How could he think such a thing after all that we shared for months?”  
“You know who he is now… a corrupted and perverted man, at least that’s what he thinks he is. He was humiliated for thirty years, Dean, what did you expect?”  
Dean took a little time before answering:  
“I don’t know… a miracle?” he whispered.  
“The miracle happened. It’s hard for him to face it alone, you know? Because yes, we are here by his side helping him, but he is the one who suffered alone, he’s the one who lived it, it’s his body that was destroyed and his soul that was lost.”  
Dean looked down.  
“So what am I supposed to do now?”  
“Bring back the Dean you were for him first… Since that session when he revealed the truth he can feel you changed. He thinks you’re different because you see him differently now.”  
“This is ridiculous.” Dean sighed.  
“Look at me, Dean.”  
He looked up.  
“We will settle new rules. Mary will see Castiel every Tuesday afternoons, and I will work with him on Thursdays and Fridays. Starting tomorrow, you won’t visit him these days.”  
A wave of sadness appeared in Dean’s eyes.  
“But you can visit him all the other days like you always did.”  
She paused a moment seeing Dean’s poker face.  
“Talk to him, Dean. But don’t talk to him with pity, he doesn’t need pity, he needs your friendship.”  
She stood up.  
“Why did you stop singing to him?”  
Dean looked up at her with a questioning look.  
“You think he’s dead because his look is empty? You never considered you lost him because you changed since that Monday?”  
She was right… he was looking at him with pity… like he was sick and not like a friend anymore. He changed because that terrible Monday session crushed all his strength, and it brought the old Dean back. She was right: he wasn’t talking to him anymore, they were staying quiet in the room all the time. Castiel didn’t change… but Dean shut down after he explained his hell to him.  
“Shit!” He said realizing the truth. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” he blamed her.  
“Because Castiel told me only yesterday.”  
“What?”  
“He picked up a picture of a wall and he placed it between your photo and his… and then he threw all of it on the floor with rage. He then picked up a picture of a window and one of a bird and he stood up, lifted his pillow and showed the book you gave him.”  
“The book…” he repeated feeling tears in his eyes. “What a douche I am! Really I’m an idiot!”  
“Castiel cares about you more than you know, Dean. There was not a day he didn’t pick the picture of you in the box.”  
“Today is Tuesday…”  
“Yes.”  
“It means I can’t visit him?”  
“No, Dean. Not until we say so, but you can see him on Mondays, Wednesdays and the weekends too.”  
“Fine.” He said reluctantly.  
“Just stay yourself, that’s what he needs the most… no pity, it makes him feel he lost you because he’s nobody.”  
“Thank you, Leyla.”  
“We will win this, Dean. It will take time but one day he will go out of his room.”  
“You really think he can?” Dean asked surprised.  
“Of course he can. He will never leave St Gerry Hall, that’s not possible, but I am deeply convinced he will pass those gates and see what life is outside St Gerry for a few hours, or even a few days. No matter how long it will take.”  
“I have all my life.”  
“He made so much progress in a few weeks. Don’t give up and trust him, Dean.”

“I won’t give up… and trust is all I have left.”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

That evening Dean invited Suzanne to get dinner at the same Italian restaurant they went before and she smiled at the idea.  
He opened the door he kept close for so long and she listened to him talking about Sam, his stolen youth, but he didn’t say too much and was very careful about the words he used. It was so new for him!  
Then he talked to her about Deveraux, the old attorney who saved him, and he also talked about the magical encounter he had with Castiel, changing his life and breaking his past in a few months.  
It was something Suzanne understood: Castiel and Dean would be forever connected to each other. No matter what he could feel for her and where their relationship would bring them, she knew Castiel would have to accept her or she would lose Dean.  
After dinner he drove her back home and was very quiet the whole way back to her place. When she invited him in after he kissed her on the front porch, he hesitated. He never did it, he could stay long minutes cuddling her in front of her door but he never came inside her house.  
“Dean…” She took his hand and came inside with him. He didn’t resist.  
They had really clumsy sex that night: he was scared to hurt her and she was scared to disappoint him and to let go too fast as she waited this for so long.  
She fell asleep on his shoulder and he couldn’t help but caressed her hair breathing her perfume.  
When morning came, they had sex again and this time Dean didn’t hold anything back, doing everything he avoided the previous evening, and they finally came together staring at each other.  
For the first time he loved a woman completely, he loved her body and her soul. He just loved her and it scared him to death.  
“I love you, Dean Winchester.” She whispered in his ear.  
He didn’t reply. He just couldn’t say those words.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Next afternoon he took his guitar to go to room 14. Castiel was sitting on his bed showing his back.  
Dean stepped closer.  
“Hey, Cas!” he said sitting next to him.  
They spent a moment just looking outside in the same direction.  
“I talked to Leyla yesterday… I always said I would tell you everything, remember?”  
He looked at him but Castiel didn’t react.  
“We talked about me… and about you.” He was very uncomfortable but he had to talk to him to make him understand nothing changed between them.  
“I reacted like an idiot… I’m sorry, Cas… But I was so scared I thought I lost you again, and it’s my fault. I was the one who wanted to get you out of your silence. They all say it was your choice first but I can’t help thinking it’s my fault.”  
He looked down.  
“I’m sorry.”  
He felt him moving next to him and when he looked up, Castiel was finally looking at him, and Dean smiled.  
“I’ve missed you, buddy.” He confessed in a whisper.  
He couldn’t help but hugged him.  
“Damn it, Cas…”  
He felt Castiel’s head in his neck, like that Monday, but he didn’t cry this time. He just needed to feel the connection, and Dean realized he waited this for a long time, so long he lost hope.  
Castiel woke up after years of sleep, and he could now live his emotions, he wasn’t scared about them anymore.  
She lost… she was definitely dead.

They stayed like this a long moment, Dean thought time froze and he wished he could just stay like that forever. He stroked Castiel’s back to comfort him, like he did with Sam, and Castiel was just here with his head on his shoulder and his arms hanging, appreciating the connection he missed too.  
Dean finally pushed him back softly, still looking at him. Castiel tilted his head and he couldn’t help but smiled. He took his guitar out of the case and started playing a few notes before singing and breaking the silence with his broken voice.  
“Hallelujah” rose like a prayer, like a call from the heart, like a scream from the soul, like a hope.  
Light exist for people who dare approaching.  
When he stopped singing and put his guitar down, he was overwhelmed by emotion and he felt a tear running down his cheek, but one finger caught it. Dean turned his head and saw Castiel observing the tear drop on his fingertip. It ran along his finger and died on his skin. He met Dean’s eyes and smiled, he gave him a huge smile that brightened his face, and just like that, he comforted Dean who seemed to be sad.  
He actually thought about Sam and his life… he thought about the last months breaking all his defenses… and he thought about Castiel, right here smiling at him.  
One day, he will laugh. One day, he will step out of this room. He would take him for a ride in the Impala, careful about his reactions, and he would see the curiosity on his face. They would stop and share the freedom together. There was still hard work to do but they would do it. They would fall again, the past would come back to haunt them again, but future was full of hope.

Dean left when Missouri entered with the dinner, and he realized suddenly he’d stepped away from the staff too, from all the people who’d became friends. Suzanne’s presence in his life was no excuse. He just didn’t want to talk about Castiel after that awful Monday and he knew it would’ve been impossible with Missouri, Garth or even Phil. They haven’t said anything, they let time pass because they understood Dean’s pain, but they never stopped worrying for him, they didn’t want him to fall like Castiel.  
Dean smiled at Missouri and stood up to get his guitar back in the case.  
“Will you work tomorrow morning?” he asked her.  
“Yes.” She said putting the plate down on the table.  
“Still taking your breakfast at the same hour?”  
“Yes.” She grinned.  
“Ok… see you tomorrow, Missouri.”  
“See ya tomorrow, Dean. Good evening.”  
He turned around to look at Castiel who was looking outside.  
“Cas? I’ll see you on Saturday.”  
Castiel turned around and sank his blue eyes in Dean’s green ones. Dean’s heart skipped a beat, he’d missed him so much it was almost scary. He didn’t feel that kind of attachment since Sam, and he realized if one day he had to make a choice, it would always be Castiel first.  
On his way out of the room he gave a huge smile to Missouri who was waiting for Dean to go away so Castiel could eat.  
“Bye!” She said smiling back at him.  
He opened the door and didn’t turn around, but he could feel Castiel’s look on him.  
“Bye, Cas.”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

The day after, Dean met Suzanne and they spent the day together. They ended up in their favorite restaurant and ended the evening at her place, but he didn’t stay the night. She would fall asleep alone tonight… and she knew it would happen again. Even after they had sex, Dean rarely spent the whole night with her. He was always leaving when she was sleeping, kissing her on the lips before going away. She never complained, he loved her in his own way, and she needed to give him time. It was Dean.  
When he came back home that night, he opened the drawer and took the white book Leyla gave him. He opened it, still standing behind his chair, and he noticed it would be full after a few pages.  
Was it a sign?

End of chapter XXI


	22. The final key

 

Dean entered the room, Castiel was at the window as usual and didn’t react. After all they went through these past weeks, finding their old routine back was peaceful and comforting for both of them. Castiel was leaning his forehead against the window. It was rainy and windy and rain was projected by the wind against it, it was an autumn storm and Castiel jumped at each thunder clap and each lightning.  
Dean understood why he was so distant: he was just scared of the storm, he was frowning and shutting his eyes tight, and he had trouble breathing. He was trying to hold on to the rain he liked so much, but the storm was too violent and his fear too irrational.  
He has always loved rain though… even in his attic the sound of it against the skylight was making him peaceful and eased him falling asleep, but he was terrorized by thunderstorms, she said it was God’s wrath, and lightning was just here to show it was true.

He screamed the first time he heard it, he was alone in the attic, and she stepped in, alerted by his shouts and sobs.  
She then took his chin in his hand to force him looking at her in the eyes.  
“God is angry… because you’re evil, you’re the devil! He wants to punish you, to destroy you, but I will protect you in here. Don’t cry, angel, or his wrath won’t stop pursuing you.”  
But he was so young and so scared he couldn’t stop.  
“STOP WHINING!” she yelled slapping him. “Or maybe you’d prefer God to hit you with his divine light?” she asked pointing at the skylight.  
Since that day, and during each storm, Castiel was praying asking for God’s forgiveness, but his wrath always came back and was sometimes very violent, making the roof crack.  
He ended up associating God’s wrath to the shadows on the walls of his prison. They were here to grab him and he was trying to stay away from them as he could, curling up under his bed so they wouldn’t see him, and praying to God, promising he would be a nice child and to stop crying, even when she would beat him, or even if he’d hurt.  
When he grew up he stopped praying, but the fear of storms stayed, it was graved in his skin and his soul.

Each thunder clap made him want to scream. Dean knew it because he saw his hands gripping his pants at each noise.  
He stepped closer to him.  
“Cas?”  
He slowly leaned his fingers on his shoulder and Cas opened his panicked eyes and leaned his look in Dean’s face before pushing him back brutally, hitting his head against the wall.  
The time for Dean to understand what just happened and to recover from the shock, a new rumble resonated, making the window shaking. A huge lightning cut the sky and lighted up the whole room.  
“Cas?”  
Like for each of his visit, Dean let the room’s door open, and noticing Castiel wasn’t standing here anymore, he ran out in the corridor, terrorized about what could happen to him, but except some patients’ screams and some weird evil laugh from others, it was empty. The patients were all in their rooms during storms. They weren’t all scared of it, but there were not enough staff members to take care of all the ones who were actually frightened.  
Dean finally came back in the room thinking Castiel would never leave just like that, especially when he was terrorized. The outside was even more frightening for him and he wouldn’t leave even with threats. He searched the bathroom and suddenly slapped his own forehead.  
“Shit!” he screams realizing he knew where he was hiding.  
He came back in the room and crouched down near the bed.  
The storm was particularly violent, even Dean was impressed even if he’s never been scared of it. He couldn’t help but jumped when the thunder resonated so loud.  
“Damn it!” he said looking outside before looking under the bed.  
Castiel was here, curled up against the wall, his head between his hands and his knees under his chin. He was shaking and jumping at each noise.  
“Cas!” Dean called crawling under the bed.  
He had trouble moving and didn’t know how to fit in a so small area but he finally managed facing him.  
“Cas… look at me. It’s me, Dean!”  
He crawled even closer.  
“Cas!”  
He saw Castiel releasing the pressure of his hands on his head and Dean extended his arm.  
“Hey!” he said smiling and leaning his hand on his cheek.  
It was an awkward moment, and it became even more awkward when the storm moved away suddenly. The thunder became less violent and the lightning faded.  
“See? It’s going away. It’s over.” He comforted him rubbing his thumb under his eye.  
Castiel relaxed and Dean almost thought he would fall asleep, but he was still staring at him with big confused blue eyes. He could guess he had tons of questions but he didn’t know which ones. Looks were not enough anymore, dolls and pictures either, they needed words now. Reflections of his memories in his eyes were not enough either.  
But Castiel was not talking, he still didn’t want to.  
“We’re not gonna stay under the bed all day, are we? It’s kinda uncomfortable!” he asked smiling.  
He crawled back and waited for Castiel to do the same, and he did a few seconds later.  
“Come on!” he said going back to the window. Castiel didn’t move, the storm wasn’t gone completely even if it was less violent.  
“Cas!” Dean insisted but Castiel wasn’t decided to move. He was staring at his feet, and Dean observed him from the window.  
He desperately wanted him to put words on what he was feeling right now, to express his emotions instead of showing them. He had scars to prove his beatings, he had moves to explain his physical abuse, but he had nothing to express his fears. What was he thinking about? What were those images making him hide under the bed?  
He showed a lot, but he needed to say more to get out of his world and never come back. Their quiet conversations were over, and Dean needed to find a way for Castiel to stop blank-staring instead of screaming his pain. He needed to be able to talk.  
Dean knew Castiel was free to choose if he wanted to talk or not, but he needed a real way to communicate if he decided to do it. Right now, even if he wanted to, Castiel just couldn’t because he didn’t know how.  
The storm was over, only the rain was still falling, tracing rivers on the window, attracting Castiel who finally moved. He extended his arm and touched the water from behind the window. He loved rain… it could wash his soul. He hated storm… it was breaking it.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Leyla listened to him silently. He talked to her about the end of the depression, the music afternoons and the looks shared. He talked about the storm, the bed, Castiel’s fears that he couldn’t express because he didn’t know any way to do it.  
She leaned back in her chair.  
“I had a meeting with Mary and other doctors from St Gerry a few days ago, and when we talked about Castiel’s case and how he had trouble progressing because he has no way to communicate properly, someone suggested we should meet someone in St James and ask for a specialist.”  
“A specialist of what?” Dean asked worried but curious.  
“Sign language.” She revealed.  
Dean’s face brightened suddenly.  
“That’s an amazing idea!”  
Leyla smiled.  
“Don’t cry victory too soon though. We can’t be sure the specialist will accept to help us.”  
“We’ll find another one then!” Dean interrupted.  
“Dean…” she said annoyed, making him understand she had more to say.  
“Sorry.” He replied twisting his fingers.  
“If… and I insist on the IF, he accepts to help us, Mary wants to be the first to talk to him. Dr Roché has some special methods to work and Castiel is not just a patient like the others.”  
She could see Dean was worried.  
“He’s an excellent Doctor, I’ve worked with him before on young patient’s cases and he made miracles.”  
“So you think it could work with Cas?”  
“I honestly don’t know, Dean. We don’t know how Castiel sees our world, and words may have a different meaning for him than for us. I think he’s aware of what happens around him, he’s able to analyze it and eventually put words on it, but will it have the right meaning for us? Will we perceive what he truly means if he uses different words? That’s why Mary wants to see Dr Roché before considering Dr Milton’s proposition.”  
Dean looked down and frowned, confused. Mary was the boss here, it was her hospital and her doctors but would that Roché doctor accept to work with her on Castiel’s case? Would he teach her his methods at the same time?  
“Why do you say his methods are so special?”  
“You’ll see yourself.”  
He looked up.  
“Mary wants the people close to Castiel to be able to communicate with him. What’s the point of teaching him how to talk if he has nobody to talk to, right?” she said smiling at him.  
“Will Roché accept my presence? I’m not a staff member anymore.”  
“Mary will first ask someone else’s help to teach us sign language bases, because Roché will take care of Castiel exclusively. A lot of centers have volunteers that are ready to give their time to teach us. Roché can even give us some addresses, he knows the right people.”  
“Ah.” Dean replied with disappointment in his voice.  
“Nothing is settled yet, it’s still just a project. Roché has to accept first, but he has a reputation to hold so he will probably take it as a challenge… he loves challenges. Problem is… St James Hospital doctors are paid well, but working in St Gerry, Roché would be paid less.”  
“He could refuse just for a matter of money?”  
“That’s not Roché’s style… he makes a lot of money with his job in St James and his conventions, but still a few doctors refused to work here because of the pay check.”  
“Or it was just a lame excuse…”  
“That too…” Leyla laughed. “Psychiatric environment can scare even brilliant doctors, we can’t blame. We all have our specialties.”  
“So what about Roché?” Dean asked losing patience.  
“If he accepts Mary’s offer, she will introduce him to Castiel, and if he judges there is a chance for it to work, we will start the sessions.”  
“How long will it last?”  
“It will last as long as we need it, Dean.”  
“Will it be like the dolls’ sessions or Mary’s visits?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Can I attend?” he asked harsher than he wanted to sound.  
“I’m afraid not… What I accepted with you wasn’t very professional, Dean, and if Castiel wasn’t such a specific case and hadn’t been so connected with you, I wouldn’t have accepted those sessions. Mary has a very personal view of psychiatry, it’s something rare and precious for us, but there still are rules to follow and limits to not cross.”  
“I know that.” He whispered.  
“But you’ll attend the sign language classes, of course.”  
“Thanks.” He said with a weak smile.  
“Now let’s wait for fate to do the rest.”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dr Roché accepted to meet Mary after a short phone call. He heard about Castiel before, and as Leyla supposed, he was very intrigued by the case and interested in the challenge he represented. Roché had a swaggerer and selfish reputation, he also was using his talking skills to get what he wanted professionally and personally.  
He was a famous and talented doctor though, using new methods without being revolutionary. He associated several types of therapies into one, and was using sign language as a base. It was simple but nobody tried it before. In the medical system each doctor wants to be the best in his specialty and losing a reputation because of uncommon methods was easy and fast.  
Roché wasn’t like that, he never wanted to stay locked in one specialty and was always searching new ways to help patients. Psychiatry was a vocation to him, and he could work efficiently but still keeping his job pleasant. He had very good results and it was his pride.

Mary observed him while he talked about his job, the way he was reaching patients, his medicine skills, and the challenge a case like Castiel represented for him. She couldn’t help but had an awkward feeling about the man: he obviously loved himself too much, persuaded his methods were the best and he was a unique doctor. Succeeding with Castiel would bring him a lot of honor. But he said all of this with honesty and never lied about himself.  
She decided he was the doctor of the situation when he talked about his best success: Jess, a mute and blind child he cared about. He taught him how to talk only by touching the person in front of him. Of course he was very proud of it, and he could be, but she noticed he talked about this patient with deep tenderness. He was still seeing him regularly even if he was now independent. He just loved his job with passion and it was enough for Mary.  
She then talked to him about Castiel’s evolution, the way he can communicate, and his relationships with the staff members here. She proposed him to meet Leyla and he accepted. She shared her own experience with Castiel.  
He just nodded, it seemed like he was taking mental notes, asking for deeper explanations on certain points and she could see in his eyes he was already trying to find solutions.  
Then she talked to him about Dean and the special connection he had with Castiel. She informed him Dean would be attending the sign language lessons. Roché’s assistant was in charge of these lessons as he requested. He said nothing about it, no approval but no refusal either.  
They planned an appointment the next Thursday, Roché would then meet his future patient and was curious to finally meet the famous Castiel.  
“See you on Thursday, Mary… if I can call you Mary, of course.” He said smiling at her.  
“Call me as you want, Balthazar.” She replied grinning and he tilted his head, surprised she knew his first name.  
“Call me Balty… it’s less… formal.”  
Mary laughed, coming from a selfish man like him it was a real paradox. When she shook his hand firmly that day, she was certain she made the right choice.  
“Thank you, Balty. Thank you for him.”  
“You’ll thank me during a nice dinner if I can make him talk, alright?”  
“I’m married.”  
“And?” he smiled.  
“See you on Thursday.”  
“Yes. 3 pm.”  
He left as he came in: selfishly and very proud of him.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Leyla informed Dean the day after, at lunch. She explained Mary accepted Roché to meet Castiel on Thursday afternoon, and asked Dean no to visit Castiel that day. He nodded reluctantly and didn’t speak the whole lunch. He hated to feel isolated like that, especially when it was about Castiel. Leyla had her occupational therapy sessions with him, Mary wasn’t saying anything to him about Castiel’s evolution, and now that Roché guy probably would teach him how to talk without him being involved either.  
“I have an appointment on Thursday. I’ll visit him Friday.” Dean said.  
“With Suzanne?”  
“No. Gaby probably found me a job.”  
“The Gaby who organizes underground fights?”  
“He knows a lot of people.”  
“What kind of job is it?” she insisted.  
“Supervisor in Mc Arthur School.”  
“Supervisor?”  
“Yes. The old one is retiring, I don’t need a degree to watch kids, I just need to look if they don’t do craps, and I’ll have a little paper work to do too. It’s not paid too badly and at least I will have a real job.”  
“Will you leave St Gerry?”  
“I have little money left and I don’t want to be kept by this hospital’s charity.”  
“Mc Arthur School is less than 15 minutes away, right?”  
“Yeah. Gaby knows I don’t wanna go too far.” He said playing with his fork.  
“Does Mary know?”  
“No. I’ll wait till I’m sure I got the job, and I won’t start before January anyway. You’re the only one to know and I don’t want you to tell anyone for now.”  
He leaned in his chair with a serious face.  
“Who would have thought you would be here a few months ago? I’m very proud of what you became, Dean. I’m very proud of the path you chose.”  
“I’m overwhelmed about all of this.” He confessed blushing a little.  
“Life is full of surprises and it can happen we get lost.”  
“Right.” He said putting his fork down.  
“You think this gonna work?”  
“What? Mc Arthur or Castiel?”  
“Both…” he smiled.  
“For Mc Arthur, you can name me as a reference and I’ll be glad to help. A supervisor with your past is a gift. And for Castiel… I honestly don’t know. He made so much progress in a few months already, he revealed his hell. We just need to know if he’s ready for more or if we have to give him some time.”  
“He will agree to go on… there is still too much pain in him but he doesn’t know how to say it, I can feel it. He has no way to do it and I can’t help anymore.” He said looking down.  
“Dean Winchester I forbid you to run away or to give up, you hear me?” she scowled. “he will learn how to talk, maybe, but he will talk only to you about what he feels. Roché will give him the means of communication, but he will confide to you.”  
“You must think I’m pathetic.” Dean said sadly.  
“Absolutely not. You have such a strong connection with him that you have a hard time leaving the place to the doctors, but you do it anyway. It would be pathetic if you wouldn’t let Castiel open up to anyone else but you, but it’s not what it is. I know it can be hard but you’re strong.”  
“You still think one day he will be able to get out of his room and live somewhere else?”  
“Yes.” She said without an hesitation.  
Dean laughed about it.  
“At least it’s clear.”  
“It will take time but he will climb that final step.”  
“He almost did once.” He said remembering the day he was about to step outside but didn’t dare doing the last step.  
“Keep believing. He will do it.”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Gaby was waiting in front of his apartment and Dean felt his heart break a little when he saw his ex-mentor standing against the wall with an elegant dark blue suit. Dean was wearing his usual jeans, a sweat shirt and his leather jacket.  
When he heard the engine noise, Gaby looked up and waved at him while he crossed the street to meet him. He got in the car and greeted him.  
“Hi!”  
Dean turned to look at him.  
“Hi, Gaby.”  
Gaby smiled scratching his two-days beard.  
“You look good! Are you in love?” Gaby joked.  
“Maybe.” Dean replied starting to drive.  
“Are you kidding me?” Gaby asked surprised.  
“Are you showing me the way?”  
“Just drive straight.” Gaby said fastening his belt. “Now tell me everything.” He said turning the radio off.  
“Gaby…” Dean sighed.  
“No Gaby please! I’ve lost money since you left, you owe me this!”  
“I’m sorry, Gaby.”  
“What a moron you are sometimes! You think I didn’t earn money before you arrived? Don’t you worry about me… I found a new fighter.” He winked.  
“Do I know him?”  
“Nope. He’s new. He was in the army in Iraq. He lost everything except his rage.”  
“Does he love it?”  
“I don’t think so, he’s bad luck but he’s strong. He fought ten times and won ten times, but he doesn’t love it.” Gaby said looking outside.  
“Are you trying to save all the lost souls?”  
“Oh you shut up! It’s your fault, I should’ve broken my leg the day I met you.”  
“I’m glad you didn’t, because that day you saved my life.”  
Dean heard Gaby mumbling.  
“Turn right!” he said without looking at him.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Roché looked inside and saw Castiel standing at the window. He turned toward Leyla who came along to introduce him. They entered but Castiel didn’t move.  
Leyla looked at him in the window’s reflection and their eyes met. She sighed in relief, at least he was here fully awake. She could perceive he wasn’t comfortable because Dean wasn’t here and he didn’t know the man with her.  
“Castiel…” she said stepping toward him. “This is Dr Roché, and he’s here to help. He will teach you how to talk to us. You understand?” she said trying to catch his look.  
Castiel could feel the man’s look on him, and after a few minutes, he dared looking up at him, through the reflection, without turning around, and Roché smiled.  
“Hello. I’m Dr Roché.” He said insisting on each syllable, making signs with his hands at the same time.  
“I am here to help you.” He went on, stepping closer.  
Castiel tilted his head and turned to look at Leyla.  
“Castiel!” Roché called, then he spelled his name using signs. “C-a-s-t-i-e-l”  
He turned towards the doctor when he heard his name, and followed his fingers with his eyes… he was very intrigued. He turned towards Leyla again and she smiled at him.  
“It’s called sign language. The words you have here…” she leaned her finger on his forehead “you will be able to say them using this.” She showed her hands and made the moves for him to understand. “You understand?”  
He tilted his head again and turned to Roché to look at his hands.  
So… hands could be used to talk instead of touching and corrupting him? They could do something else than beating?  
He looked at his own hands and moved his fingers… could they talk too?  
Roché stepped forward and Castiel stepped back. He looked at Leyla who hadn’t moved from the window. She comforted him with a smile.  
“Do you want to learn?” Roché asked, still trying to catch his look. He was still moving his fingers every time he talked and if Castiel wasn’t looking at him in the eyes, he was at least obsessed with his fingers.  
“Castiel?”

He suddenly looked up to meet Roché’s eyes and the doctor was shocked… he could almost hear the “yes!” he was screaming with his eyes, extending his arms to him.  
Roché took a few seconds to recover and turned to Leyla.  
“I’ll start next Monday, and I’ll come twice a week. I’ll see with Mary how to organize the staff lessons. They’ll have to practice with him the most they can.”  
“Don’t rush anything, Balty. Castiel is not a patient like any other.” She said looking at him, going back to the window. “He progresses as he wants to and sometimes he just doesn’t want to do anything.”  
“I’ve read the file and the records, thank you. I know how to be patient when I need to, and I won’t be alone.” He turned toward Castiel. “I would like to meet that Dean Winchester.”  
He saw Castiel reacting when he pronounced his name.  
“He’s not here right now.” Leyla said.  
“Because of me?”  
“Not only.” She smiled.  
“I’ll see him on Monday then.”  
“Alright.”  
“Goodbye, Castiel.” He said looking at the reflection.  
Castiel stared at his fingers playing with his voice.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

“Goodbye, Mr. Winchester. We’ll see you on January 2nd when school starts.”

Dean stood up and shook the hand of the director of Mc Arthur School. He had the job, but he would be on trial period till the end of the school year as he had no degree. If he was good enough he would be hired for the next school year.

He looked at Gaby who didn’t say anything.  
“I’m buying you a drink to celebrate!” Dean said shutting the car’s door.  
“I’d prefer a Rolex but whatever…”  
“Gab… Thank you.”  
“No thank you, just whisky. Drive!”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

When Dean came back in St Gerry, he saw Leyla waiting for him on the front stairs. She smiled when she saw him.  
“So?” she asked.  
“I got the job.” He said smiling back at her. She stood up and gave him a warm hug, which made him feel very uncomfortable as he wasn’t used to it, but he hugged her back anyway.  
“Roché accepted to take care of Castiel and he wants to meet you.” She whispered in his ear.  
He hugged her tighter for a moment before letting her go.  
“What will happen?”  
“We’re going to teach hi…”  
“NO!” Dean interrupted her brutally, a panic look on his face. “That’s not what I meant! What will happen now? It’s too much and too fast, everything is going great and it’s bad luck, something bad will happen, that’s always how it is!”  
He stepped back almost falling when he missed a step.  
“Dean…” Leyla caught his arms.  
“It’s not normal. It can’t be that good.” He said in a broken voice.  
“Don’t you think you both had enough bad things happening? Don’t you think it’s time to move on to good things now?”  
“No! No! No!” Dean screamed still stepping back.  
“Dean! Look at me!” she ran after him and caught his face. His eyes were full of tears. “Happiness can hurt too…”  
“But why?” he begged.  
“Because it’s new for you, and for him… Because you fought for this way too long, and because you refuse to admit you actually deserve it.”  
“I’m so scared it will end…”  
“There is no reason. You’re happy, you love him and he loves you back. You share your happiness and he feeds it… you’re not alone anymore.”  
“It scares me to death.” He confessed falling on his knees when suddenly the emotions were unbearable.  
Leyla crouched down in front of him and cupped his face.  
“You deserve it, Dean. Don’t be scared. You’ll still have moments of doubt and pain but you won’t be alone anymore. Life is giving you a gift, just take it. There is always light somewhere… always.”  
She hugged him tight and let him cry his fear out.

Castiel observed the whole scene, his hands leaning flat on the window.  
He looked at his hands and took them down, moved his fingers and mimed a “C” as Dr Roché did earlier. He had no idea what it meant, he didn’t know it was his first name’s letter. He just knew he could do it.  
He looked up at the ceiling… the skylight was definitely gone. He just threw away the last key of his attic.

 

End of chapter XXII


	23. No lost cause

 

 

Devraux closed the door behind him and sighed realizing a huge part of his life was definitely over. Tomorrow, he would leave for a family trip in the East Coast and when he would come back it would be over.  
He thought about the previous evening and the intimate retirement ceremony they organized for him. He refused honors, and the Attorney General was a friend so he agreed to make a simple and short ceremony without pretention. Only his assistants and his faithful friend Jody were present. A few of the people he saved were here too, they were his biggest pride.  
He had regrets, he made wrong choices too often, but when these people came to him with their huge smile, he thought it was worth all the sacrifices he made.  
Jody came alone. She was definitely his biggest loss, his deeper regret and his hardest sacrifice. She never blamed him for that, after all they were the same.  
Their common victories were standing right in front of him, dozens of people who wrote him and kept contact with this uncommon attorney. Some others never came back to thank him but he was always watching over them from far, they never knew about it. He never blamed them because he knew it was just too hard for them to remember the man who saved them from their terrible past life.  
He never did anything for glory and never waited for something in return. He just wanted them to be finally happy and free because everybody deserves a piece of happiness.  
That’s why he wanted to be an attorney: to free people, not to lock them in jail.  
That evening he reluctantly accepted to take a photo with everyone. He wanted to remember those people forever.  
He couldn’t help but felt a bit sad when he noticed Dean wasn’t here though. Did he at least know he would retire? Did he know he called Mary often to have some news from him even when his job in St Gerry was over? Did he know he was one of his biggest prides?  
He knew Dean had a new job and a girlfriend, and he knew about Castiel’s story too. It was a huge victory on his past and he smiled when he thought Sam would be very proud of his big brother. At least he didn’t sacrifice everything for nothing.

 

He smiled again and turned the key to lock his career behind him. He ended it on a beautiful friendship story and he was glad he believed in Dean for that. ‘There is no such thing as lost causes’. He’d been repeating this as a motto for all those years.  
When he’d come back from his family trip, he would go to see Jody, she found him a job as a volunteer in a rehabilitation center. His experience would be very useful there, and his faith in human being too. He just couldn’t stay locked in his apartment remembering the past, he would become crazy waiting only for death.  
Plus no one was waiting for him home: he had no wife, no kid, not even a dog… maybe he would take a cat, he liked their independent way of life and the peace they could bring at the same time. Now that retirement was here he would have time to care about a cat for sure.  
He smiled at that idea and wiped the tear that felt down his cheek before grabbing his box and stepping out, leaving the most important part of his life in an office.  
What would tomorrow bring?

 

  
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean was sitting in front of his bathroom mirror in his boxers trying to practice the moves Julian taught them the day before. He had to succeed. He was saying words trying to mime them at the same time looking at his reflection.  
He finally met Dr Roché but stayed distant first. He didn’t like his selfish attitude but after a conversation with him he had to admit he was caring about people. He was actually the personification of contradiction. He really wanted to help Castiel beyond the personal and professional challenge it represented for him.  
They agreed to meet in the refectory to have a coffee. Dean arrived 30 minutes early and was so nervous he drank a lot of coffees while he was waiting, Mark observed him from the kitchen, very amused.  
They talked quite a long time: Roché wanted to know everything he could about Dean’s life and why Castiel found in him such an anchor, and he honestly said he wanted to use Dean to get Castiel out of his silence for good. Actually he clearly understood Dean was the key to his success.  
Dr Roché listened carefully while Dean talked about his past and he smiled when he noticed his face lighted up when he explained how he met Castiel. He also accepted him attending Julian’s classes and judging his progress, he would eventually accept him to attend his sessions with Castiel.  
Of course Castiel would have to accept to learn sign language and he would have to understand the meaning of words too. Castiel had a different view of the world and probably had different meanings for words, but now he would have to talk like anyone else.  
Dr Roché wanted to use pictures, mime and speech too at the same time, that way Castiel would understand better and would progress faster.  
They talked for almost two hours and it was a phone call from St James that interrupted the conversation.  
If Dean had some apprehension about Dr Roché and his methods at first, when he shook his hand and saw his smile before leaving, he was full of trust and hope.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Devraux greeted the security guard one last time and gripped his box tighter. He held his tears back the day before during the ceremony, but right now he just wanted to cry.  
When he stepped out, the police officer at the door took off his cap to greet him, and Devraux turned the page on his career: it was over. The tears fell down his face while he was walking to his car.  
He froze when he saw a black Impala parked next to his old Ford. Dean was here, leaning on his car’s door.  
“You planned to leave without saying goodbye, Sir?” Dean asked with his arms crossed on his chest.  
He looked at the old man and noticed the tears in his eyes. They stayed a few minutes just looking at each other, no one wanted to break the emotion of the moment, but Devraux finally broke it:  
“Can I get you a coffee?”  
“No.” Dean replied straightening up. “I am getting you a coffee.” He corrected, smiling.  
“You’re inviting me?” Devraux asked putting his box on his car.  
“I have my afternoon free and I haven’t had lunch yet. This is just the right time.”  
“Yeah… just the right time.” He whispered.  
“Come on!” Dean said opening the car’s door.  
Devraux hesitated a moment and finally put his box in his car’s trunk before joining Dean in the Impala.  
“Where are we going?”  
“We’ll see.” He replied smiling and closed the door.

 

Mary told Dean that Devraux was retiring… or he was told to retire. He would never have chosen to leave. He wanted to work till he was too old to move, but that’s not how it works.  
He left reluctantly, and he hated the man who was supposed to take his place: a narrow-minded officer who thought every crime deserved a hard punishment, never trying to understand the soul in front of him instead of judging and throwing people in jail. He was part of the new generation so he had a new point of view about justice.  
Devraux smiled: he knew there would still be men like him to believe in people and save lives.  
Mary also told him he never stopped calling to take news about him and he felt guilty because he never thanked the attorney properly, though he saw the broken soul behind the trouble maker. He never called Devraux after he met Castiel and his life changed.  
Mary kept contact with the attorney even when Dean’s job was over in St Gerry Hall. He was very proud of Dean and wouldn’t leave without taking news. She told him about Castiel and how he was fighting to start a new life. She also told him about Gaby and he silently thanked that man in his prayers.  
Devraux wanted to end his career on a positive note, and he did.

Mary told Dean about his last day and let him free that afternoon so he could go. When Dean left her office, she couldn’t help but thought he would leave too, to start a new life, in a few days. Of course he would still come back to St Gerry to attend Julian’s classes and to visit Castiel. He just couldn’t leave like that: Castiel saved him, he had to do the same for him. His goal now was to take him out of the four walls of his room to see the world.  
Castiel spent a year in St Gerry and the attic boy was definitely gone, it was for Mary, her most beautiful victory. She took her revenge on the God who abandoned his children. She smiled… happiness was just here, so fragile but at the same time so wonderful to observe.  
She took her phone and dialed.  
“Martin?”  
“Hey Mary, honey is that you? What’s up?” the man on the other side of the phone worried.  
“Nothing… I just wanted to hear your voice.”  
“Mary?”  
“I’ll be home earlier tonight, we could go to the movie, the three of us, what do you think?”  
“You know what I think: Megan will be the happiest girl in the world!”  
Mary smiled at that thought.  
“See you tonight then.”  
“Sure.”  
She hung up and thought it was the time to catch any opportunity to be happy with her family.

Dean opened the Impala’s trunk and got the small box out. He smiled looking at it. He was a bit sad, but he knew what he was about to do was a good thing, and it was necessary.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean stopped at a small restaurant. It was cold but sunny that day, and the sky was bright blue.  
He and Devraux sat down near the front window, that way he could stare at his car to regain composure if the emotion was too strong. He needed to empty his heart with Devraux, as he did with Suzanne, Leyla and Castiel.  
The attorney ordered a chicken salad, he wasn’t in the mood to eat too much as the emotion was still present. Dean ordered a burger but he wasn’t so hungry either.  
“So… Dean… what brings me the honor of your invitation?” he asked smiling.  
“Don’t mock me, Sir.”  
“Franck.”  
“Sorry?”  
“There is no more ‘Mr. Devraux’.”  
“Well… you’ll still be “Sir” for me: The one who gave me the chance to save my life. I owe you everything.”  
“I just guided you, everything else was your decisions.”  
“It’s not true and you know it. I would have died or lost myself in that Cage.”  
“But it saved your life too, in its own way.”  
Dean looked away.  
“At first, yes. But then it wasn’t enough.”  
“When you want to live, the perspective of death scares you.” Devraux said picking at his salad.  
“I owe you everything… and I’m sorry” Dean said leaning back in his chair.  
“Sorry for what, Dean?”  
“For giving up on you.”  
Devraux laughed “That’s usually one of my lines!”  
“I should’ve called you at least.” He whispered shyly.  
“I should’ve called you too, but I was too scared to be the grain of sand in the beautiful spiral of events St Gerry brought you… so I called Mary instead.”  
“Yeah she told me.”  
“She’s the one who told you today was my last day, right?”  
“Yes, and I’m thankful for that too. I would’ve hated myself, I really planned to come see you when… when…”  
“When what, Dean?”  
“When I could’ve brought you the proof you were right to believe in me and I was wrong to run away from the obvious.”  
“But Dean… The second you signed that proposition for St Gerry, I knew you would win.” He confessed with a smile. “I always knew you would get out of that Cage.”  
“Thanks… a lot. I will never disappoint you again.”  
“You never did. Don’t say bullshits like that!” he caught Dean’s look “You’re my greatest reward.”  
“Come on don’t say that.” Dean replied with emotion.  
“I’ll say it again though: you’re my greatest reward. You’re alive and you’re starting to be happy, you even love now!”  
Dean tilted his head… Mary told him every detail obviously. Noticing Dean’s trouble, Devraux served him another glass of wine.  
“Mary and I are friends now, talking about you that much created a friendship, and we ended talking about everything on the phone. We have more in common that you could imagine. She talked to me a bit about Suzanne, she just wanted me to know you found love too. For people like us, you and Castiel are the best thing that can happen, this is what we fight for and why we get up every morning. You probably saved us as much as we saved you, you know? So don’t say I can’t think you’re a reward. It’s even more than that: you’re our pride and you’re both the proof we don’t fight for nothing. Thank you for that.”

Dean stayed quiet a long moment. He couldn’t talk anyway, the emotion was too big. After a while he found the strength to reply:  
“Sam was everything to me… my life, my motivation, the reason of my angers and my fights, the person for who I would’ve sacrificed everything I had, even my own life, and he knew it. He wanted to free me, I know that now. I will never stop thinking I’ve made mistakes, but I know he’s better where he is now. Anything would be better than what he lived anyway. I know he loved me and he died because of it. It doesn’t change I can’t forgive him for giving up though. I tried a million times but the pain is too deep and it will never heal. I just learnt how to live with guilt, and I still can feel him next to me, he’s like… the guardian angel on my shoulder, it can sound silly but I need to believe it.”  
“You can sure believe it, I believe in angels too, look where you are now! If that’s not a miracle what is it?”  
“It’s overwhelming and sometimes it scares me.” Dean said staring at Devraux’ eyes.  
“That’s a good thing. You need to be scared to lose what you have, that’s how you find the strength to fight to keep it.”  
“I’m tired of fighting.”  
“It won’t be a usual fight, Dean. No violence, no blows, it will be only a matter of love.”  
“Love…” he laughed. “That’s so new to me.”  
“It’s exhilarating, isn’t it?” Devraux asked taking a sip of wine.  
“Yes… and love can be so different too… I feel things for Cas that I don’t feel for Suzanne, and vice-versa.”  
“Those are two different loves, yeah… but still it’s passionate.”  
“I love Suzanne but I can’t tell her, something’s blocking me and I don’t know what it is.” He confessed looking down.  
“As long as she can feel it, it’s enough.”  
“That’s so strange…”  
“What is?”  
“I think I might be able to leave Suzanne if I had to, even if I don’t want to.”  
“And nobody is asking you to!”  
“I would never be able to leave Cas though.” He went on without listening to Frank. “I don’t think I can live without him, I need his presence as he needs mine… it’s scary and awkward too!”  
Frank thought it was time for a confession too.  
“I loved someone once too. An extraordinary woman who has always been by my side, and she still is even if we separated a long time ago. She’s the one who proposed St Gerry’s job for you, she’s got a gift to feel things right, she was my wave of life. She accepted everything from me but I lost her without even noticing it. My career took all the place. I had a friend I met at the beginning of my career, a police officer, we met each other on a common case. He’s the one who taught me human being is more important than rules. We were inseparable and I would’ve done anything for him, he’s the one who shaped the attorney I am today… or at least I was.” He corrected. “We stayed friends for more than twenty years, Jody said we were like soul mates and she was right, it was a friendship stronger than anything else. Jody liked him and Ben was very nice with her.”  
He looked down on his plate.  
“I’m saying this to you because you have to understand those are two different kinds of love, but they complete each other. Nobody can make you chose between Suzanne and Castiel. Jody never asked me to give up on my friendship with Ben, she knew I loved her and it was enough.”  
“Where is Ben now?”  
“He hum…” he hesitated, feeling the emotion overcome. “He’s dead. He was killed by a drunk road hog who hit him with his car as he was drinking his coffee on a terrace. A young mother was killed too. Since that day my life changed and nothing was the same.”  
“That’s why you lost Jody?”  
“No. I lost her before that. Ben wasn’t responsible, it was my mistake.”  
“Why are you telling me all this?” Dean asked looking at his car parked outside.  
“Because Suzanne is maybe your Jody and Castiel may be your Ben. Love them both and never give up because you’re afraid. Life is too short… you can understand that better than anyone.”  
“Yeah, I know.”  
“So… let’s talk about you now. How is the famous Castiel?”  
Dean’s eyes brightened.  
“You should come visit him.”  
“I probably will one day.” He said still eating.  
“Have you ever met someone like him?”  
Frank thought about it.  
“Once. A girl who’s been a sex slave for 15 years. She had two babies and the wife of her torturer raised them like her own children.”  
“Where is she now?”  
“We found her family. She’s actually been kidnapped after school, she wasn’t even 10 years old when it happened. Her babies were placed in adoption and she never wanted to see them. She came back to live with her mother.”  
“And what happened to the torturers?”  
“The woman got 20 years of jail, and the husband got life sentence.”  
“Yeah… and the poor girl was sentenced to life prison at the same time but nobody noticed it.” Dean said sadly.  
“Her mother wrote me a letter, she told me her daughter tried to kill herself twice but she found her before it was too late. Then she met a man during a therapy session and they killed themselves together a few months later jumping from a building. She said her daughter was finally free now.”  
“This is disgusting… the torturers are still alive, the woman will get out of prison one day, but they destroyed a life!”  
“I know… I always had hard times in my job because of this, but I decided someone had to care about the victims, someone had to give them a chance to live again and to find purpose.”  
“What life? What victim? Look at Cas! Nobody knows his real name or his age, FBI gave up on him, he’s nothing to the world. They just supposed things bases on pictures. How is it possible to not see or hear anything when you live around? I’m not buying it!”  
“Human being is deaf and blind when someone’s pain reveals his own cowardice. But Castiel owns a natural and uncommon strength even if he can appear as a weak person and a victim.”  
“I know…”  
“What you’ve done for him, what you built together, it’s wonderful and you have to be proud of it.”  
“Well I’m not. He saved me more than I saved him. You actually all saved me: You, Gaby, Mary, Nina, Suzanne, Leyla and him. He showed me the way.”  
“The way to join your destinies.”  
“Yes… the way to join our crossing destinies.” Dean repeated with a smile.

 

They stayed a long time here, talking about their lives and their feelings, and then it was time to leave. Dean stood up and stepped out of the restaurant. He came back a few seconds later and noticed Frank paid the bill, he frowned and gave him an angry look.  
“Privilege of the oldest, son.”  
“I’ll take my revenge, Sir.”  
Dean was standing here in front of the table and Frank started to worry.  
“Dean?”  
“This is for you. I’ll wait outside.” Dean put a box on the table and left.  
Frank looked at him, he went to lean against his car as usual. He opened the box carefully.  
“The Happy Prince” by Oscar Wilde.  
He stared at the book, confused, then he opened it.  
“Dear Mr Devraux,  
This book was Sam’s favorite. I entrust it to you as I entrusted my life in your hands before. You told me once not to let him win, and I did it… I won, thanks to you, and thanks to the man who opened my prison. I would never have met him if you didn’t trust me. I now make the promise to keep fighting for all the victims, to let people hear their screams.  
Thank you for everything.  
Thank you for believing in me.  
Dean.”  
Frank felt tears coming in his eyes. He closed the book and held it tight. It was one of the best gift he ever received: Dean proved him he finally erased his past, he was giving him a part of his brother, and he would now go on fighting for the good cause, for the victims forgotten in the world, to avoid other Sam dramas.  
He couldn’t hope better for the end of his career. He stood up and left the restaurant. When he stepped towards Dean, their eyes met and they were both overwhelmed by emotion. Frank showed him the book, not knowing what to say or what to do.  
They finally hugged each other. It was a short and quiet hug but full of meaning.  
They promised each other to keep the contact, and Dean promised this time he would call him.  
Frank had to meet Castiel, he was the one who made their encounter possible after all. He’s been the first key Dean needed to open his prison at the time.

The day after, Frank took his plane peacefully and content. He opened “The Happy Prince” and started to read.

Dean went to Suzanne that same evening and told her about what happened with Frank. He stayed with her the whole night, but he couldn’t sleep, staring at the ceiling for hours. He thought about the 30 years of his life and wondered which part of it was really his own.

 

Sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed, Castiel was observing his fingers moving, a weak smile outlining his face. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, frustrated and broken at the same time when he noticed no sound would go out. He looked up to the dark sky: obviously only darkness and distress could find a voice through him.

 

End of chapter XIII


	24. The choice of a life

 

 

Dean and Suzanne’s relationship ended as it started: between silences and looks, on a few words and a few held back tears.  
A choice… once again he had to choose.  
He wiped the single tear falling down his cheek and kept staring at the road, he couldn’t drive fast because it was snowing. Snow started to fall a few days ago and everything was white and seemed so pure now. The police even had to block the usual road Dean used to come back from Suzanne’s place.  
He spent the night with her… But after all, he knew he couldn’t hope for such a full happiness, he knew it wouldn’t last, it was too good to be true. He sighed deeply to evacuate the weight of his feelings in his chest.  
She asked him to choose, and he figured it was a sign. She was leaving for nurse’s school and Dean was leaving for Mc Arthur School, but she wanted to share her life with him so much that she forgot to care about his past still haunting him. He wasn’t ready for this, he was still fighting his demons to find his place in this world. She forgot a scar never disappears.  
He needed to take a decision that would mean the world to him and to her. She loved him, she told him a lot, but he never replied, and she realized she needed to hear it, she needed to know, so she took the risk to push him but she had no choice. She would at least know if they could go on or they had to stop it here. She had to make him face what they were for each other because their lives would change and they would have to take a new start. Of course she wanted to take it with Dean.  
Problem was… Dean wanted to keep the control of his own life, it was still so fragile. He found the control of his past when he accepted it, so now he didn’t have to fight with it every day. The new Dean was a survivor.  
He made choices for her already, but she refused to see them. She couldn’t see the obvious. He had his own apartment, and he accepted to work as a supervisor in Mc Arthur School without telling her. He declined Mary’s offer to stay in St Gerry. That were Dean’s choices, the choices of his new life, but she didn’t understand he needed to be independent and free about his life. He just needed to be himself.  
She didn’t understand he wanted her to be a part of the trip either, he really wanted her by his side… but she was too sure she would be his only choice and she forgot to deal with the patience that first built their relationship. She forgot Dean walked in the darkness for 30 years and he just saw the light.  
He felt trapped in a new cage when she asked him to choose, and he couldn’t take it. Why would she do that? Did she doubt about his feelings? He revealed himself to her, he told her everything she needed to know, and he thought she listened and understood but obviously he was wrong: she only held on the idea they were made for each other and he would always choose her.  
It was too fast, she didn’t give him the time to live this new relationship, he didn’t know how to be in love, he was still full of doubts and he wasn’t sure how to build such a romantic relation with her. He felt trapped and betrayed: she didn’t trust him enough to give him the time he needed to learn this new life with her.  
He was so determined to give himself fully, not just a part of him, his entire soul, but she didn’t understand, she didn’t see it… she didn’t feel it. She saw only his pretty face in the mirror, but there was more than that.  
They walked together but their paths never met. Some decisions break lives, and a single word broke Dean’s life: CHOICE. “Choose to be by yourself, or choose to be with me”. He wasn’t ready to make this sacrifice, not now that he was existing for real.

He would leave St Gerry in a few days to work in Mc Arthur School. The director of the school, Mr. Flanigan, had fought for years to give hope back to young people who lost it. His goal was to give them purpose, a future they could hope for, and dignity. Dean liked that, he took it as a motivation even if he knew it would be hard. It was a whole new responsibility, and he also would have to guess the pain behind their eyes… It wouldn’t change from St Gerry that much after all.  
The director had little money, government never gave too much for schools like Mc Arthur, but he had courage and hope and he was fighting hard to save the teenagers he was responsible for.  
Gaby always knew that job was made for Dean. He would love saving people and showing them the way. He was the living proof anything is possible, and he felt every employee in the school shared the same point of view, that’s why he accepted.  
Dean smiled in the mirror view… but it was a sad smile, leaving his place in St Gerry would be very hard. He found a new apartment but he knew it wouldn’t be the same.  
He was full of hope, and he had tons of projects, but everything broke when Suzanne asked him to come after his class with Julian that afternoon.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dr Roché and Julian were coming twice a week in St Gerry. It’s been a month since they started Castiel’s program. Dr Roché was focusing on Castiel and never interrupted Julian’s classes.  
Julian created two classes: he was teaching sign language to Dean, Missouri, Mary and Leyla on Mondays, and he was teaching Garth, Kevin, Phil and Armand on Thursdays.  
Mary couldn’t pay them for the classes, so usually they were doing it during their lunch break or their free time.  
They learnt the basics pretty fast: the sign alphabet and how to spell words, so Julian could go to the next step after four weeks only. They could now learn how to form sentences associating symbolism and faces expressions, to have a real conversation. It was the hard part because there were so many things to think about at the same time, and Dean had a hard time with it because he felt like it was talking to an idiot… but Castiel was mute, but not deaf and he was smart!

Of course Dean was still visiting Castiel as often as he could, between his sessions with Dr Roché and Mary. Leyla’s sessions were suspended, she could go on after Dr Roché’s work would be done.  
Dean was coming as soon as he had free time, with or without his guitar, it didn’t matter as the most important was that he was here with him. He loved talking to him and seeing that sparkle in his eyes proving he understood. They were enjoying being together, it was that simple. It was like finding a new brother and a friend, the other half of his soul.  
Their friendship was not very physical, they just needed to share the same space, just hanging out together, standing at the window looking outside as the autumn was leaving to winter and its magical snow.

Castiel was still listening to Dean a lot, but despite all the effort with sign language, he was staying mute and locked, refusing to use any form of communication with anyone. They all kept using signs to talk to Castiel because Dr Roché ordered it, but Castiel was just staring at them and their magic fingers, not knowing what to do when they waited for an answer.  
Dean was convinced he understood everything though, he spent one afternoon only talking with his hands and Castiel got everything… so why was he so stubborn and refused to communicate ?  
Dean asked Dr Roché about it, but he wouldn’t answer. He was still coming twice a week unshakably, sharing his sessions only with Mary.

Dean discovered another side of Dr Roché: during a coffee break Julian told him they were coming in St Gerry without being paid. Mary proposed a salary but he refused, saying Castiel was much more than a patient. Julian followed him because he was a loyal assistant, fascinated by his mentor. Julian was probably 25 or 26 and wasn’t looking very solid, he even had a very high and weak voice, but he knew how to communicate his passion to his students. He was a very patient man with a sharp sense of humanity.  
Dean liked him but stayed distant, he always had a problem building a relationship with people he knew he wouldn’t see afterward. He was conscious he would have to work on that too and he actually hoped his job in Mc Arthur School would help.  
Dean was also conscious he would never leave St Gerry forever as it became his family, he was determined to keep it no matter what.  
Suzanne destroyed everything though…  
Dean stopped at the refectory’s door and saw that Leyla was sitting in the back, near the kitchen. She was reading a file with her plate next to her. He took a deep breath and stepped in.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Castiel was standing at the window, his right hand leaning on it. He tried to catch the snow that started to fall again. Snow was weird… it was white and bright but it was hiding the sun too…  
Dean entered the room looking down, his hands in his pockets. Castiel looked at him in the reflection and understood something was wrong so he turned around.  
“Cas… we need to talk.” Dean said looking up at him. “I’ll have to leave St Gerry.” He confessed quickly.  
Castiel didn’t move, confused.  
“You remember when I told you about Mc Arthur School ?” he asked him stepping forward. “Well I’m starting my new job there in a few days, and I found an apartment not too far from here. It’s not fancy but it will be good enough. I’ve known worse.” He said remembering the crapy motel rooms he stayed in for years.  
Castiel was still standing at the window not doing anything. He was just staring at the open door and was listening to Dean’s voice, his eyes were half closed.  
“Cas…” Dean pleaded in a whisper. “I will have to make an important choice that will probably break me into pieces. But I have to do it… happiness comes with a price obviously.”  
He looked at Castiel but he was still not moving.  
“Cas… I’m afraid you’re the price I’ll have to pay.” Dean confessed looking down, his eyes full of tears.  
Castiel stared at him, he seemed to not understand.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He stepped towards Leyla who looked up from her file and smiled at him. She quickly understood he wasn’t just here to take a coffee.  
“I need to talk to you.” He said to her.  
“You want to go in my office?” she proposed closing the file, worried about his tone.  
“No.” he whispered.  
“Ok… sit down then.”  
He did so and leaned in his chair looking down, his hands crossed on his thighs.  
“Dean?” Leyla encouraged.  
“I was with Suzie yesterday…”  
He paused but Leyla stayed quiet. She didn’t want to push him, she knew him now, he needed to talk as slow as he wanted or he would close like an oyster. He was shy talking about his feelings, even when it was about Castiel, but he also knew he had no one else to turn to. He trusted Leyla, maybe as much as he trusted Castiel.  
He liked the fact she was always listening without interrupting to judge him. He knew he could be honest with her since the day she sat in front of him and accepted to help Castiel.  
Could she save him too now?  
He looked up at her and she smiled again to comfort him. Mark appeared and put a cup of coffee on the table.  
“Thanks.” Dean said.  
“Welcome!” Mark replied on his way back to the kitchen.  
Dean grabbed the mug and clumsily played with it.  
“Suzanne’s training is over, she passed her exam and she’s now officially a care-taker.”  
“I know.”  
He kept staring at his mug… if she knew about this, she must know about what was coming next.  
“She… she wants to study to be a nurse now, to work in psychiatry. She will leave St Gerry because she found a school far… far away from here.” He said pulling his hand in his hair.  
“She’s leaving…” he said with tears in his eyes.  
“I know, Dean… Mary told me because Suzanne wanted to give her time to find someone else to replace her.”  
“You’ve known it for how long?”  
“Last Friday but she made me promise to not talk to you about it, she wanted to do it herself.” She confessed looking down.  
“I see…”  
“I wasn’t happy about it, you know… But she’s the one sharing your life so she’s the one who needed to come to talk to you.”  
“She asked me to follow her.” He interrupted, and a heavy silence settled.  
“And?”  
“I don’t know.” He said holding his tears. “I don’t know anymore.” He whispered.  
“It could be a new start, and it’s a choice you’re free to make yourself.”  
“Free?” he repeated raising his voice.  
“Yes, Dean: it’s her… or this.” She said looking around her.  
“Right! Her… Her or Cas!” he finally said it, not being able to hold his tears back so he quickly wiped his cheek.  
“Distance can’t be a problem between you and Castiel, you know that, right?”  
“But it will be! I don’t wanna lose her but I refuse to leave him! I can’t just abandon him like that!”  
“She never asked you to abandon him. She asked you to live with her. She just wants to know if you love her enough to follow her.”  
“This is what love is about? That kind of choice? Do you love me enough to make such a sacrifice? I thought love was about living happy together and sharing things! That sounds more like blackmail to me!”  
“It’s not, Dean. But there are always decisions to make to keep going, and they are sometimes very hard as you can see. Did you… have you talked to Suzanne about a future together?”  
“She talked about it… I listened. But I’m not ready for this, it’s new and it’s going too fast. The only future I was thinking about was Mc Arthur School and Julian’s classes. That’s all.”  
“What about Castiel?”  
Dean smiled.  
“He’s my only long term project.”  
“Suzanne is not?”  
“It’s different. I like being with her, I like what we share, but she wants us to live together, she wants kids, she wants a happy-family-apple-pie life, and I’m certainly not ready for this. She says she understands and she’ll give me all the time I need, but I don’t need time… I need a different past and I don’t want a new family, I had enough with the one I had, and I’ll probably never be able to start a new family. She will hate me for this, she will end blaming me for this! Her vision of a perfect life is not the same as mine.”  
“Did you say that to her?”  
“I tried but she said she loves me and she can believe in this for two.”  
“Do you love her too?”  
“I… I like her a lot and I feel good with her but I feel like I can’t be free… why?”  
“Do you feel good enough with her to leave everything you have here? Do you love her enough to give up everything and start something new with her? That’s what you need to ask yourself, and if the answer doesn’t come naturally, then you’ll know what to do.”  
“It’s absolutely crazy… it’s going so fast!” he said rubbing his face.  
“You’ve been together for months, if you don’t see any future with her, you have to be honest and tell her.”  
He sighed.  
“I know… life can be full of hard choices, but it makes you who you are. What are you afraid of? Losing her or losing what she represents for you?”  
She took a sip of coffee.  
“Nothing will stop you from visiting Castiel, even if you follow her. You can come every weekend. Mary told you: you’re home here and you’ll always be. There will always be a place for you between those walls. Have you asked yourself why you hesitate so much?”  
“Hell yeah I can’t stop wondering since yesterday!”  
“Would you still hesitate if Castiel was transferred far from here?”  
He sighed again.  
“No… But I told you, it’s different. I’m attached to Castiel, but this is Suzanne we’re talking about.” He said looking down.  
“So what’s the problem? Why do you hesitate?”  
“Because I refuse to sacrifice a part of me for someone else!”  
“If she loves you that much, and I think she does, she won’t ask you to really do it. She just needs to know you’re ready to do it for her.”  
“She knows I won’t choose anyway, I told her it wasn’t possible for me to do that, she can’t just make me chose!”  
Leyla took another sip of her coffee thoughtfully.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

“You just can’t force Dean to make such a choice, Suzanne!”  
“I love him, Leyla! I love him so much… but I have the feeling I have only one half of him.”  
“You knew that since he arrived in St Gerry! He never hided it!”  
“I know, but I want to build my life with him, and I need to know.”  
“If you’d really cared about Dean, you wouldn’t ask him such a sacrifice.”  
“I’m not asking him to give everything up! I’m just asking him to choose me.” Suzanne said leaning her hand on her chest. “You can’t understand what it is to love a man who is only half yours. I need all of him!”  
“You’re making a terrible mistake here. You will lose him, that’s all you’re going to win! You need to give him more time, it’s so new for him!”  
“It’s only two hours from St Gerry, I’m just giving him the opportunity to start a new life with me somewhere else.”  
“He already has a new life, Suzanne… Mc Arthur, his apartment… you. And you want to take that away from him to build new walls?”  
“He deserves to be happy! And I want to be the one who will give him that happiness.”  
“You were doing it right until today. With time and patience you could get anything you want from him, but now you’ll just break him again and all you’ll have left will be regrets.”  
“That’s a risk I have to take. If he loves me, he’ll follow me.”  
“This is where you’re wrong: it has nothing to do with love. You didn’t understand anything.”  
Leyla stepped away angry, leaving Suzanne alone in the lobby.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

“What am I supposed to do, Leyla?” Dean asked staring at the dark reflection of his coffee.  
“I can’t make that decision for you, Dean. I’m sorry. Plus I’m a terrible example to follow when it comes to romantic relationships, believe me.” She laughed.  
He looked up at her.  
“I will turn 32 and when I come home, nobody’s waiting for me. I sacrificed that part of my life for my career and I don’t regret it. I just love what I do. Seeing a patient healing, succeeding even if it appears impossible as it was for Castiel, those are my greatest rewards. I’ve made my choice a long time ago, and today it’s your turn. I can’t do it for you, but I’ll support you no matter what you choose.”  
“But imagine you could choose for me…”  
“I just told you, Dean… I made my choice a long time ago.” She said smiling.  
He smiled back sadly.  
She finished her coffee quietly. She told him, and he had everything he needed to choose. It was just depending on him now.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

It took a long time, with Melvin’s help, to put chains on his car’s tires. They laughed, cursed and slid a lot, and Dean needed this. Melvin noticed something was wrong with Dean and he decided to help him even if he didn’t want to.  
Dean made his choice, and even if he knew it would get better with time, he was hurting badly. He looked up to look at St Gerry’s mansion. He noticed the small gargoyles for the first time… they were here like guardians of the lost souls. He stared at them a long time.  
Melvin took his cap back and threw the snow sticking on his pants away. Dean shivered, leaning on his car.  
“We’ll miss you, you know?”  
“Not as much as I will.”  
“You’ll come back, right?”  
“Sure, every week. You don’t think you will get rid of me so easily, do you?” he asked smiling.  
“I wished!” Melvin joked crossing his arms. “Why didn’t you accept Mary’s offer?”  
“Because I need my independence now. Staying here is not the right solution anymore and Mary got it. I’m pretty sure she proposed me the job wishing I would refuse.”  
Melvin tilted his head.  
“You know, like it was a way to make sure I was ready to go.” Dean explained with a wink.  
“Are you?”  
“Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’ll be ready one day but I have to take the chance, because today, despite my past life, I’m proud of what I became and what I’ve done with my life. It may sound a bit selfish but still…”  
“It’s not selfish at all.” Melvin interrupted. “You’ve got all the reasons to be proud of yourself.”  
“Thank you… for being always here.”  
“We’ll all always be here for you. It’s a big family here, and you’re a part of it, don’t you ever forget it!”  
“I can’t forget.” He said looking at him. “I’m not really leaving, there’s a part of me that will always stay between those walls. They saved my life and…” he looked up at the third floor. “I have someone who counts on me. I owe him.”  
“You told him you’d come less?”  
“No…” Dean smiled. “It’s not necessary.”  
“Excuse me?”

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

He called Suzanne and asked her to come to their favorite restaurant. He didn’t say why and she didn’t ask. When she hung up, she already knew.

Dean sat on the bed to face Castiel who still wasn’t reacting.  
“You don’t seem to understand, Cas.”  
Castiel turned his head to look at the window, like he didn’t want to look at Dean.  
“Suzanne is leaving St Gerry.”  
He saw Castiel’s shoulder crashing down.  
“She asked me to come with her, to live with her.”  
He heard a thud: Castiel just knocked his forehead on the window.  
“Oh come on, Cas, don’t do this to me. Not you.” He said with a low voice. “I’m not giving up on you. I promised I would always be here for you and I will keep that promise. I’ll come to visit as often as I can.”  
Castiel lifted his hand and tried to catch the snowflakes on the window.  
“Cas would you stop, please? I’m begging you here, stop running from me!” he stood up and when he arrived close to the window, he froze: a single tear was running down quietly on Castiel’s cheek.  
“Cas…” he called leaning his hands on his shoulder to make him turn around, but Castiel pushed him away. Dean insisted.  
“You have to talk to me! I need to know what you’re feeling!”  
He looked at him straight in the eyes.  
“Talk to me!” he said joining sign language to his voice.  
“Cas, Talk to me!” he insisted.  
Castiel turned around and stared at the sky.  
“Fine… as you wish.” Dean gave up with a broken voice.

He needed to get out of this room so he stepped toward the door. It was too much to take.  
“I really wanted you to talk to me, I know, I’m an idiot. That’s my choice anyway, and I have to take it myself… actually I already did but I needed… I needed you to tell me you were ok with it… like you did with the book, you remember?”  
He was about to open the door when he heard hands clapping. Castiel just clapped to catch his attention and Dean froze. Castiel clapped again, and that time Dean turned around slowly. Castiel was standing right in front of him with a very concentrated face, staring Dean in the eyes.  
Then he started moving his fingers hesitantly, thinking deeply about every move he was making.  
Dean was totally unable to move and he was shattered in front of this man finally trying to say something as he could.  
“Cas? Cas do it again, please.” Dean asked, this time looking at his hands.  
Castiel frowned, looked at him desperately, and started spelling the word with his fingers again:  
“S – T – A – Y”  
Their eyes met, Dean could hear him screaming through the blue of his eyes, like the first time they met. He stepped closer.  
“Son of a bitch…” Dean said crying. “God… Cas!”  
He pulled him and hugged him tight. Castiel, his arms hanging, was staring at the door.  
Dean made his choice, and Castiel made his too.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

That evening, at the restaurant, they didn’t argue. They just left each other.  
Persuaded love was stronger than anything, Suzanne forgot it was all new for Dean and he couldn’t compare it to anything else except his brother’s or Castiel’s love.  
The choice was now obvious for Dean. He would not leave what he fought for so long. The old Dean and the new Dean were now a new person.  
Just with a choice, she turned off the light of their new love, but she understood too late.  
When he left the restaurant without looking back at her, she didn’t cry. He didn’t either.

When she closed her apartment’s door behind her, she saw a few boxes waiting for her, and she realized she would start that new life alone. She gave up and cried for hours.  
She left two days later.

Dean parked the Impala and looked at himself in the view mirror. His new life came with a price, and it was her. He leaned his forehead on the wheel and cried.

 

Enf of chapter XXIV


	25. Meet the devil

 

Dean parked the Impala in front of the half open gates. A freezing wind replaced snow.  
When he hung up the phone without even thanking the local council, he sighed and leaned his phone on his forehead, he was very nervous and confused, but he had to do it.  
He got out of the car and leaned his elbow on the roof, staring at the gates… there was a monster buried with innocent people in here. How many victims were lying here six feet under in the same silence that they knew when they were still alive? How many torturers were buried right next to them?

Dean looked up at the sky… he never believed in God, and he didn’t believe in evil anymore. The devil was just a nickname given to human beings when they were walking with darkness, or when perversion erased any traces of humanity in them.  
He closed his eyes… it was already late afternoon, it took him hours to find that abandoned cemetery. Evil was buried here in the old cemetery, and the new one was far away at the other side of the town, almost like it refused the damned souls. The good citizens didn’t want their family to rest with them.  
Dean pouted, a little disgusted, and pushed the gates that surprisingly opened without a sound. When he entered and looked around, he noticed it wasn’t abandoned like he thought it would be. Families were still coming here to visit their beloved ones, putting flowers on their graves. Only a few graves were forgotten.  
The town council gave him the number of the alley and Dean walked to it, noticing it was in the back of the cemetery, far from everyone’s look, far from unhealthy curiosity. Evil could attract a lot of people too. He made a disgusted face when he thought some people were maybe admiring her secretly, and he shivered at that idea.

 

In the empty house, right before it was destroyed the day before, a lot of objects disappeared. Only a few hours after she was declared dead, thieves found the way to enter to take what they wanted. Computer, TV, jewelry, statues… everything was stolen except the crosses hanging on the walls. After the Attic Boy was discovered, they started destroying everything they could too. Police never came to stop them, the house was meant to be destroyed… the walls were smelling like hell. The town always refused to sell it to any of the potential buyers.  
When they destroyed it, Dean was here to look at the walls falling down, and he was a bit sad, because it was like erasing Castiel’s past and the proof he really lived in hell. It was like it never existed. In a way, he would have preferred seeing the house be an evidence of what she did, at least it would teach people some of them are still suffering in silence. But human being hates looking at his cowardice, it’s easier to deny and to erase the evidence.  
Dean looked Castiel’s past falling down, leaning against his car, his hands in his pockets, and he thought they even managed to take that away from him. He took a picture of it before they started destroying it of course, at least he would be able to show him, and to answer his questions if one day he would ask about it, or if he doubted it really happened.  
Even Dean doubted about his past life sometimes, he wondered once if it wasn’t just a vision of his tortured soul. Maybe one day he would wake up and realize it was just a bad dream. But his nightmares were still so vivid, they looked so real, he couldn’t doubt anymore.  
He left the destroyed house behind him, and he would never come back to this place, as he would never come back to his old house.

 

He walked forward in the cemetery, listening to his own footsteps. He kept walking listening to the birds singing, he looked at the cloudy sky, and without even realizing it, he arrived in the right alley. He read the names on the graves, and his eyes stayed on one particular one: a man and a child buried together. On the right of that grave, another one… abandoned. There was only an old and broken cross, and it was covered with moss.  
“Elizabeth McLean.”  
He didn’t look at the birth date, not even the death date. He was just staring at some fake flowers left at the bottom of the cross. There was also a rose bush in the back of the grave, and he could see someone had left cards, but he couldn’t read it as it was erased by time and bad weather.  
So people came here to bring her flowers… Why would someone do that? You don’t bring flowers to the devil, you don’t cry about an evil woman’s death.  
Dean closed his eyes and thought about his parents. They were cremated and Dean blew their ashes in the wind, so there was nothing left, and nowhere to go to remember them. There was only Sam resting in a columbarium but he never came back there. What was the point of it anyway? Sam was with him every day, and he would be forever by his side.

Castiel and Dean were the last proofs of their own past and their pains. Nobody would never witness them, all the people knowing them before were dead. Could people believe human being is able to inflict such pain to someone? When Dean tried to talk about his past or Castiel, people looked at him like he was a ghost, they all thought he exaggerated his pain to make them feel bad for him. He could read it in their eyes.  
But you can read it in the papers every day, listen to the radio, watch the news, proofs were here! It happened to a lot of children, and some people had the guts to say it out loud to the world. Why would nobody listen? Who will remember the victims? Who will take care to listen to the screams harder? Nobody. They all refuse to see, especially if it happens right next to them.  
God created human in his own image… Dean laughed… he should not be very good looking!  
He kneeled and put a paper bag in front of him. He hesitated a few seconds but finally opened it shakily. He picked up white pajamas from it and put it on the cards near the fake flowers.  
“You lost.” He said his hand still leaning on the pajamas.  
“You all lost.” He insisted.  
He thought about his father, then about his mother, and he thought about all the parents, all the monsters ready to terrorize their children for life. He thought about all those people who broke lives just to give a meaning to their own.  
Dean stood up and looked at the empty paper bag in his hands one last time.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He threw the bag and looked at his room, his shelter for all these past months, protecting him from his ghosts. Tomorrow he would be in his own apartment, and in a few days he would open the gate to a new place: Mc Arthur School.  
His eyes leaned on the white book Leyla gave him to write his thoughts. Sometimes he wrote only words, sayings, or he drew some scribbles only he could understand. He never put a date on days, he hated dates, they were just here to mark his pain in the time. He wouldn’t remember them anyway. He just knew he loved Sundays and Mondays.  
He wouldn’t even be able to tell the date he arrived in St Gerry. He could remember the color of the sky, the season, or the smell, during every moment that shattered his life between those walls.  
He would have to deal with dates in his new job though… it would be another new thing in his life.  
He took the book and saw the newspaper article he left in the middle, with the picture of a lost Castiel taken by a heartless nurse. The start of a strange and overwhelming adventure.  
He had an appointment with Leyla, Garth, Kevin and Missouri in the refectory, for lunch. It wouldn’t be a farewell lunch, it would just be friends eating together. Dean wasn’t leaving, he would be back every Sunday, and even more if he was not too busy with his job. His family was here, and Castiel too.

Castiel was progressing slowly, but at least he was not stepping back. He smiled closing the door behind him. He hasn’t used sign language since the day he asked Dean to stay. Dean talked about it with Dr Roché, and for once he agreed to have a short conversation about him. Castiel knew the signs, he was smart and vivacious, but he was just refusing to cooperate. Dr Roché wasn’t disappointed, his sessions with his patient were very educative for him too, and he laughed about it with Dean.  
Castiel, on the other hand, hated his silence. Every night he was sitting on the floor, his back leaning on his bed. He was staring at the wall, opening his mouth to try screaming something, but nothing ever came out.  
He didn’t want to be different anymore, he wanted his voice back. He was remembering his lessons every night, he could hear Dr Roché articulating every word he tried to teach him using his fingers… but Castiel didn’t care about those damn fingers anymore, he focused on the sound of his voice.  
Of course, Dr Roché noticed it and jumped on the occasion, he finally saw a crack in his wall of stubbornness! He taught him to breathe correctly first, he needed to find his breath back before he could speak properly. Dr Roché extended his arm to him once, he needed to show Castiel how to do with his lungs, but he was too scared so he rejected him. He tried another method then:  
“Put your hand here.” He said putting his own hand on his chest, sitting straight on his chair. He smiled to encourage him, but Castiel was staring at him not understanding.  
“Look at me, and listen to me.” He said pointing at his ear for him to focus.  
He took a deep breath.  
“Feel the vibrations.”  
He then opened his mouth and let out a long and monotonous “A”. He paused and made a sign for Castiel to do the same.  
Castiel was only looking at his hand, and Dr Roché had to come closer and grab his forearm. He tensed but the doctor didn’t stop.  
“Ok, now breathe deeply.”  
Castiel tilted his head.  
“Come on!” he encouraged showing him how to do.  
“Open your mouth and inhale.”  
Castiel put his hand down, still staring at Dr Roché who leaned in his chair in defeat.  
“Damn you’re a headstrong! I could bet you’re training behind my back, aren’t you?”  
The doctor bent and looked at Castiel in the eyes.  
“Those eyes are shining with smartness and teasing… I’ll end up liking you after all!” he said laughing.  
He kept trying with the exercise but focused only on Castiel’s eyes this time. Those eyes were definitely very talkative.  
No matter how long it would take, he would not give up with this patient. It became almost an obsession to him.

His assistant, Julian, was still giving classes twice a week. Mary asked Dr Roché if he could teach sign language to all her staff and he accepted. Missouri and Leyla would help him though, because it was a lot of work to do for only one person.  
A lot of patients weren’t talking after all they went through, and Mary saw a great opportunity to cure some of them. She was maybe dreaming, but if she would save at least one patient with this method, it would be a victory.  
Dr Roché smiled and accepted, there was no reason for him to stop Mary using his methods to heal patients. He was a doctor first, and after all it would be a great way to show how he worked to more people. The only thing he asked Mary was to tell people it was his idea… of course he wanted the recognition if it worked.  
Mary was ok with this, she never cared about recognition and she was shy in public. She always refused going to conventions for that reason, and she attended the one she couldn’t avoid only because it was for St Gerry’s interest. She had to attend charity events to convince rich people to invest in her hospital… it was a pain, she hated it, but she had to.  
She saw a double advantage in Roché’s offer: she would be able to use his methods, and he would spread his glory during charity events so she wouldn’t have to go.  
It was all new for St Gerry’s staff: a new form of therapy and new hopes. Mary felt almost bad for not thinking about it before, but even if she had the idea earlier, she couldn’t afford to pay a specialist like Dr Roché. If Leyla and Missouri hadn’t accepted to teach the staff for free with Julian’s help, it wouldn’t even be possible.  
Her hospital was a big family with little money but a lot of will power and volunteers. It was better than all the fancy hospitals she worked in when she was younger, where each patient was just a number.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

 

Dean entered the refectory and was surprised to see Phil and Mary who finally had free time to eat with everybody. He smiled at them. Dean insisted for Mark to join them too, and Mary asked him too, so he accepted.  
“Is everything ready?” Garth asked.  
“Yeah, almost. My apartment is kinda empty but at least it’s mine. I’ll invite you all when I’ll have chairs.” He laughed.  
“We really gonna miss you.” Phil said.  
“I’ll miss you too.” Dean replied.  
“Come on he will be here next Sunday to remind us how annoying he can be!” Garth joked.  
“You can’t get rid of me so easily, that’s for sure!”  
“I hope so.” Leyla whispered next to him.  
“You’re my family, my friends, and I owe you everything.”  
Garth lifted his glass and stood up.  
“To Dean Winchester and his new life!” he announced proudly.  
“Yes… to his fresh start!” Mark replied.  
They all lifted their glasses.  
“To Dean!” they said together.  
Dean was touched but he didn’t show it, he ate his nuggets instead.  
“You’re all very nice but I’m hungry, and as I plan to eat only eggs and burgers in the next six months… I’ll enjoy my last real meal.” He said in a shaky voice.

They all enjoyed their meal, sometimes they were silent and thoughtful, someone was missing at the table but no one would talk about Suzanne.  
“So how did Castiel receive the news?” Phil asked.  
“Pretty well I guess. I told him I would live somewhere else but I would still come to visit him every week. It seemed he understood and uuh… Mary… I would like to ask you a favor.”  
“Sure, Dean. What is it?”  
He searched his pocket and pulled a phone out.  
“Dean?” she asked intrigued.  
“I thought I could try to call him every day at dinner time. I don’t know if it’s a good idea though… it makes me look like I’m dependant, don’t you think?”  
“A bit, yes.” Mary replied grabbing the phone. “You won’t call him every day, we’ll stick to our basic rules: twice a week but not always the same days. I’m doing this for you too, Dean. You know what I mean, right?”  
“Sure, I do. Thank you, Mary.”  
She looked at Dean playing with his fingers and understood he needed to keep the contact because he was feeling guilty to leave Castiel behind. He wouldn’t be as present as he was before, and they would miss each other, but it was a price to pay to go forward and build a future. Mary would never break this connection as long as it doesn’t stop one of them from opening up.  
Dean moved and found a new job, she understood he couldn’t change everything in so little time, and Castiel was his anchor. It was a good thing for Castiel too: he would know Dean would come but he would also be conscious he’d had a new life outside St Gerry.  
“I’ve got something else to ask, Mary.”  
“Wouldn’t you exploit the situation, sweetheart?” Missouri joked.  
“I’ll understand if you say no.” Dean insisted still looking at Mary.  
“Tell me.”  
He stood up and took the plastic bag he came with. They all looked at him with a curious look when he stood here still. Mary opened the bag and looked at him.  
“That’s a very good idea, Dean. Now we have to see if he’ll accept it, that’s a new step for him to climb.”  
Dean turned to Leyla.  
“One day he will get out of this room, I know it and I can feel it. It will take the time he needs, but he will go out. I’m not saying he will leave St Gerry even if…” he looked down “Even if I hope one day I can take him far from it a few hours.”  
“That’s what we all hope for, Dean. We need to stay realistic though.” Leyla said lifting his chin with her finger. “Castiel made a lot of progress these past months, we couldn’t even imagine what he was able to do. He saw something in you that saved him, but you have to know he will never heal completely. He will never have a normal life, even if I don’t like that word. You understand what I’m trying to say?”  
“Yeah, I know. But each step and each door he passes makes him closer to us, and takes him away from the other patients.”  
“One day he will leave East Quarter for West Quarter, I’m absolutely sure about this, but keep in mind he will always be a patient. He lived in hell for thirty years, you don’t erase that in a few years of therapy.”  
“But look at what he’d done in so little time!” Dean said enthusiastic.  
“I know! But there will be a time when he’ll stop progressing and you have to be prepared for this.”  
“Fine. I’ll believe in him for both of us then, like I always did, like I always knew he would accept my hand even if I also know he will never live like anyone else. He’s not too far from being himself though.”  
“We all agree about this.”  
“And on those great words, what if we eat the pie Mark baked for us now?” Missouri interrupted. “because contrary to some people in this room…” she winked at Dean “… we still have to work today!”  
Dean smiled at Mary.  
“I’ll never be able to thank you for all the things you’ve done for me. I won’t disappoint you.”  
“I never doubted it, but the important thing now is what you want. You’re a free man now, Dean.”  
“Tadaaaa!” Garth screamed when Mark brought the apple-pie on the table.  
“I figured it was a great occasion to try my new recipe.” Mark announced.  
“Your new recipe?” Dean asked curious.  
“Yep… The Dean Pie!”  
“Mark…” Dean sighed.  
“Ok that’s enough…” Garth said impatient. He took the knife and cut the pie while Mark and Kevin cleared the table.  
Phil served coffee and Leyla served the pie. When she served Dean, he smiled at her.  
“I have something for you… I’ll come to your office to give it to you before I go visit Cas.”  
“A gift?” she grinned.  
“Not really.”  
“So much mystery!” she joked and sat to eat her pie.

Mary was the first to leave, followed by Garth who had to start his shift. Leyla helped cleaning a bit and left too, she had a session with Charles.  
Dean stayed to help Mark and Phil, Kevin and Missouri left a few minutes later.  
“What’s in the bag?” Phil asked, still curious.  
“You’re too curious!” Dean smiled. “I have to go anyway. Thank you for everything, Mark!” he said grabbing the bag.  
“No problem, dude!” Mark replied.  
“Phil” Dean nodded at him.  
“See you tomorrow for breakfast?”  
“Sure.”  
“Ok. Bye!”  
Dean left without looking back.  
“I’m gonna miss that brat.” Phil confessed.  
“I know a woman who will miss him even more!” Mark answered, and Phil laughed.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

He was waiting for her to come back from her session in the nurses’ office when Missouri entered.  
“You won’t go to visit Castiel?” she asked surprised.  
“Yes I will, I have to see Leyla first.”  
“Oh right… the gift.” Missouri remembered, searching for something in the closet. “Where the hell did I leave it?” she first cursed, but she straightened up quickly. “Talking about gifts…”  
She turned around and searched her used leather purse frowning.  
“Ah!” she said with a content smile. “You know I’m the one who named Castiel, right?”  
“Yes… because he arrived on a Thursday? Something about an angel…”  
“Correct. That’s not the only reason though.”  
“What’s the other reason?”  
“You knew Castiel was the angel of travelers?”  
“I thought it was St Christopher.”  
“As you said… St Christopher is a Saint, not an angel.”  
She took a silver chain from her purse.  
“My husband used to travel a lot for business. He particularly liked this angel and never left this.”  
She extended her arm and Dean saw a pair of wings at the end of the chain, it was dull after all those years.  
“He hung it to his view mirror so the angel could watch over him while he was traveling, and he could bring him back to me every time.”  
She stepped closer, took Dean’s hand and put the necklace in it.  
“I can’t take this from you, Missouri.”  
“Oh yes, you can! And you will hang this to your car’s view mirror and never take it off!”  
“Missouri… it was your husband… I just can’t.”  
She pulled a hand in Dean’s hair distractively.  
“Castiel will be your guardian angel too from now on.”  
“He already is.”  
“Yeah, I know.”  
“Am I interrupting something?”  
They both turned to look at Leyla who sneaked her head through the door.  
“No. I was about to leave.” Missouri said.  
Dean looked at the necklace in his hand.  
“I don’t know what to say, Missouri.”  
“Wow that’s new!” She joked.  
Leyla entered the room.  
“I’m going. See you on Sunday, Dean. And you better tell me everything.”  
He clenched his hand and put the necklace in his pants pocket without answering to Leyla’s curious look.  
“I only have a few minutes, I have another session in West Quarter.”  
“It’s ok, it won’t take long.”  
He opened the plastic bag and took the white book out from it. He handed it to her.  
“Dean? It’s yours! And it’s personal!”  
“I want to give it to you. I don’t know if you’ll understand anything, but I need to know it’s safe here.”  
“Why?”  
“Because… because you trusted me, you gave us a chance, and I wouldn’t have made it without you.”  
“Mary helped a lot, you know.”  
“If you’d said no when I came to ask for your help, nothing would’ve happened, with or without Mary.”  
“That’s too much credit.”  
“No. You really deserve it.”  
“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate a lot.”  
“I bought a new one.” He confessed shyly and proudly at the same time.  
“Really?”  
“It helped me when I felt lost, I’ve read myself and I saw what I’ve been through. I witnessed Castiel’s progress too, and I’m afraid to lose it.” He pointed at the book. “Keep it, and if I get lost again, give it back to me. I don’t want to keep it because I’m afraid I’d throw it away and I’d regret it.”  
“Fine. I’ll take care of it.”  
“Read it. It may help someone else. I know it sounds silly and that’s not a few scribbles in a book that will change the world, but we never know.”  
“Ok. I’ll read it…” She said stepping closer. “And I’ll keep it. It helped two people already.”  
Dean stared at Leyla.  
“It will help someone else. It’s the proof of two different pains but two different victories too.”  
“Let’s just say two patients in healing process.” Dean corrected smiling.  
She smiled back.  
“I think he’s waiting for you.”  
“I know… see you on Sunday?”  
“Sure. I’ll come at the end of the morning to have some news from you.”  
“Good. I’m going then.”  
“Good luck, Dean!”  
“Thanks.”  
She looked at him leaving and when he disappeared, she clenched the book tight in her hands before opening it at the first page.

“For Dean,  
May indifference not be a truth  
And may truth not be indifferent.  
Leyla Fredges.”

 

End of chapter XXV


	26. Crossing destinies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of this fic  
> I would like to thank all readers, anonymous or not, to have taking the time to read this story.  
> Thank you to those of you who have the kindness to read me and/or let me a review and/or left me kudos  
> you're my rewards.
> 
> Never forget that Dean, Castiel and Sam are not just fictional characters here, they are, above all, spokespeople of those victims who right now are suffering in silence.
> 
> Thank you.  
> Hope that you gonna love this final chapter  
> Hope to see again in my univers.
> 
> Thank you again to my beta, Kiki

 

“ _January 12th:_  
 _I’m celebrating my 33th birthday today. They say Jesus died at that age, but I never felt so alive._  
 _I look back at my past and I accept it, but it won’t stop me from moving forward anymore. I won this. The way to redemption was often very hard, it was long and I wanted to give up a million times… I even did a few times. Between the Cage, the depression and punching walls, the need to give up and join him was heavy despite my promise._  
 _Even if all my childhood and my pre-adult life were only violence, hate, guilt and destruction, I kept my strength to fight to prove the world anybody can win this._  
 _Ordeals can kill you like they killed my brother, and epiphanies make you stronger like they did for me, and for Castiel._

_I did not get up alone, I couldn’t do it alone anyway. What I knew from happiness was only what I saw on TV or around me, it was just here but it was forbidden for us. I gave up on happiness because my only reason to live was Sam. Of course, my destiny proved me wrong._   
_I will never forget the look on people’s faces: indifference, disbelief or contempt leaned on me and my brother and our distress. The scars were obvious but people chose to not see them._   
_I think about other victims every day: they suffer in silence behind closed doors, and when they go out, there is nothing worse than dealing with people’s look. They judge you, they think you’re a liar, and at the end you really believe you deserve what’s happening to you._   
_Nobody deserves hell… or maybe torturers do… or people who know and let it happen without moving a finger to help._   
_But Sam and I were lucky enough to have good people around us, holding out their hands. They kept me from falling: Mr. Gardini, Mrs. Nora and Uncle Bobby, I owe you everything._

_And then my life turned: there is nothing worse than seeing your own brother, the most important person in your world, the one you love with all your heart and soul, the essence of your life, becoming crazy and killing himself. The worst part is I know he did this for me, to save me. This is the bravest thing someone ever did for me, the greatest proof of love, but still it hurts because he sacrificed his own life to save mine, and now he’s gone forever._   
_There is not a day I don’t think about him, and I think I owe him a lot too. His suicide killed me first, but then it freed me. I’m still fighting for us today._   
_Sammy, wherever you are now, I love you._

_After that, it was free falling. I couldn’t feel any pain but at the same time it hurt like hell. I screamed through my fists, in the Cage, because it was the only way I knew. I didn’t want to suffer anymore, and to stop suffering, you have to stop feeling, and stop loving too._   
_But destiny had a different plan for me. The cage was a release to my rage, my anger and my guilt. I should’ve cared more about my brother’s pain, I should’ve seen it clearer, but when I think about it, how can you see the obvious when you’re so obsessed with finding hope?_   
_He was everything I had, he was my life, and I wanted to suffer only for him._   
_And there was Gaby… I would be dead today if it wasn’t for him. He was the first person to teach me how to live out of hell. When you look back at your life, you see how important some people were. Gaby helped me twice: he gave me my new job in Mc Arthur School and I could start a new life. I owe him a lot too and even if I say that to him every time we meet, I feel like it will never be enough. He saved me._

_There was Deveraux too… I don’t even how to talk about this man who became a real father to me. Gaby saved me, but Deveraux gave me a new family. He believed in me when I didn’t believe in anything, and he will probably believe in me forever. He showed me what I refused to see: I wanted to live but I didn’t know how. I’ve never learnt to survive. Without him, I would’ve never known St Gerry Hall, the place that healed me, it became my new home. Inside this mansion, I realized I was alive and I could be loved for who I am, and even for who I was._   
_Without Deveraux, I would’ve never met Mary Campbell, Missouri, Garth, Phil, Kevin, Mark, Melvin and all the others. Those people are my family today, they are my best friends and they are my new life._   
_Without him, I would’ve never met Suzanne either… my Suzanne. I regretted leaving her for a time, but I know she’s happy now, she finally found what she wanted and I couldn’t give it to her. She deserves to be happy. She loved me, and she taught me how to love, like Nina did before. She woke up the man hidden behind the beast, and she proved me it was possible to love without destroying yourself or the one you love. She was my guide._

_And you, Leyla… You’re the one I share my life with, today. You always believed in me, and obviously you believed in us too. Our love is very strange when I think about it, but it’s what I cherish the most today: we both follow our own way but we know how to cross the paths to live our love. We made our choices._   
_Do you remember when you told me about your professional choice? You told me you chose it over your personal life and it was full of rewards. Well I did mine too: those kids need me as much as I need them, and we found the balance._   
_I don’t think I told you this a lot, but I really love you, Ley. I hope you know it._

_I can’t end this without talking about Cas, the awkward angel who turned my life again. I have no words to describe the connection we have. One day, Deveraux told me about soul mates, I think it’s a good expression to resume our relationship. We were made for meeting each other, we were made to save each other. Our destinies crossed and they will never fall apart._   
_I will never forget our first look, it’s engraved in my soul. You can’t understand before you’ve met his gaze, it freezes you and takes you along with him._   
_I love Cas deeply, like I never loved anyone else. It’s different from the love I had for Sammy, different from the love I have for you too. I don’t know how to describe it, it’s just pure love. That’s the only expression I can use to express what it feels like to me. Words are so poor when I want to talk about him._

_So this is it… I’m ending this fourth white book with my 33th birthday, and it will be the last. Another book won’t be necessary because now I have you Ley, you’re my open book._   
_I don’t need any books anymore, because yesterday, Cas talked._   
_He turned to me with his huge smile, still barefoot in front of his precious window, in the jeans I gave him years ago and he still refuses to change, his grey washed-out shirt, he looked at me and I heard just a_   
_“De…”_   
_That’s when I cried._

_With all my love,_  
 _Dean_.”

 

Dean closed the white book and put it on his knees. He breathed out on his cold fingers, he was sitting on the front stairs, looking at the snow that made the park all white.  
He looked up at the third floor… so many things changed.  
He was still coming every weekend and when he wasn’t too busy at work, he was coming more. It was vital for him, he never wanted to be alone again.  
He walked to Julian a few times, he was still coming to help Missouri and Leyla a bit.  
Leyla was working less in St James to spend more time in St Gerry Hall.  
He couldn’t tell exactly how their relationship began. He turned to her, as he always did because he trusted her, to talk about a case Dean had trouble dealing with in Mc Arthur. He was sure she would give him good advice. He ended up kissing her, and she looked at him in shock first, but then she smiled. He apologized and as an answer, she kissed him back.  
Their love was easy: they were taken anything it could offer. There were no regrets, and they were living it step by step. After a few months dating each other, they realized they were in love, just like that.  
Happiness is easy when you give it time.

He rubbed his hands together, it was so cold! But he didn’t want to go. He stayed here remembering, because his past was still in his mind during those moments.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Sam ran fast to avoid it, but the snowball crashed in his neck, making him scream and laugh because it was cold.  
Dean was hiding behind the old Manfred’s car, preparing another snowball.  
“6 to 3… I think I won, tiger! You better surrender!”  
“Never!” Sam yelled.  
He ran to the bus-stop shelter and breathed out in his cold hands. He had no gloves this year, but nevermind, he was happy right now and those moments were so rare it was worth being cold. He prepared a snowball and smiled. He knew where Dean was hiding and it was time for revenge.  
Dean made small balls, he didn’t want to hurt his brother, it was just a game, just to forget what would come later. But for now, their parents were at work and they had a little time to enjoy the day. School was canceled because of the snow, so they were free to enjoy the little happiness they could take.  
Dean waited for Sam to prepare his attack: he walked out of the bus shelter around the cars, but the sound of his footsteps betrayed him, and when he was ready to throw his snowball proudly, Dean turned around and threw first. The snowball fell on Sam’s face and Dean froze. Without releasing his snowball, Sam wiped his face. His hat moved at the back of his head with the shock and there was snow in his hair, his eyebrows were white, he had drops on his eyelashes, his cheeks were red, but his eyes were full of joy.  
“Sammy?” Dean asked worried.

Sam started to laugh and it almost made Dean cry: it was so rare! He spontaneously pulled Sam and hugged him, the laughter stopped and tears appeared in his eyes. There were tears of happiness because he was so happy to play outside with his big brother. But then the tears tasted bitter, because he understood Dean’s distress even if he was only 8, and he could share it.  
Dean cried too, because he wanted to give Sam more than a laugh in a snowball fight, he wished he could give him a new life, and a normal childhood.  
Sam released his snowball and hugged his brother back, and they stayed like this a few seconds, feeling alone in the world.  
Snow started to fall again.  
“Come on, we have to go inside.” Dean said pushing his brother gently, taking care to hide his tears. “Take your stuff”.  
Sam picked up his bag and ran to hold Dean’s hand. He hadn’t done it in a long time, but he needed it right now, and he figured Dean wouldn’t reject him. He was right: Dean took his hand and put it in his pocket, holding it tight.  
It was the beginning of a new year, but tonight, they would go to bed after an evening full of violence, and God would forget about them the next 365 days... again.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean sighed deeply. It seemed so far away in another life, but it was still living in his mind. It was like watching an old black and white movie, and if there were no scars on his body, he would probably end up thinking it was someone else’s life, because his life was so great now.  
He felt someone pushing on his shoulder. He almost forgot about him! It was too cold and it wasn’t so good for Castiel who was still fragile. Mary said yes when Dean asked to take him outside a few minutes, but he realized they were here for almost an hour.  
“Damn it, Cas… Sorry I was lost in my thoughts.”  
He couldn’t help but laughed when he saw his bright blue eyes full of joy.  
“Are you cold?”  
Castiel shook his head no.  
“Well we need to go inside anyway, you can’t stay outside too long and you know it, you should’ve told me sooner.”  
Dean put his book in his jacket, stood up and rubbed his cold wet pants.  
“Actually I may be the one getting sick.”  
Castiel stood up too, and Dean couldn’t stop observing him. He was wearing his favorite jeans, but also a winter jacket, gloves, a scarf and a hat. All you could see from him was his bright happy look on his face. Dean thought maybe he exaggerated with the winter clothes, but he didn’t want to make him sick. It was only the fourth time he went outside, and he was staying only on the front stairs, refusing to go further.  
“Come on! We’re going in.” Dean said pulling him by his sleeve.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Castiel looked at the clothes leaning on his bed a long moment. Dean took them out of his plastic bag, and he showed him the jeans. He showed him how to change, unbuttoning his own jeans…Castiel froze… Dean had forgotten his past, just for a while…  
He realized his mistake.  
“Sorry… I’m an idiot sometimes.”  
Castiel looked at him and smiled. It happened more and more: a soft smile that was enlightening his face.  
Dean showed the grey shirt, there was a tiny pair of black wings on the right side. Castiel always wore pajamas, he never had real clothes, like he was nobody, but it was time to change that, because he was someone now, especially for Dean. He wanted Castiel to see himself as a person and not as a patient anymore, and he hoped he would accept his gift.  
Dean also took a pair of boxers and socks from the bag, and when he showed him the pair of sneakers he had for him, Castiel tilted his head.  
“You won’t spend all your life barefoot, will you?” he said putting them on the bed. “No laces… it’ll be easier for you. And be careful about right and left ok?”  
He looked at Castiel, who was very confused, and sighed.  
“Alright forget about the shoes for the moment.”  
Castiel stepped towards the bed and observed the clothes.  
“I bought basics… I hope you like it.”  
He didn’t understand what Dean meant... Like it? He stepped closer and leaned a hand on the jeans, he didn’t like that sensation on his skin.

He suddenly closed his eyes, remembering… the men never took the time to undress, and he could still feel that sensation on his skin. When he opened his eyes, he stepped back.  
“Cas?” Dean worried. “You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to, I just wanted…”  
Castiel went back to the window and Dean followed.  
“What’s wrong?” Dean said, using signs to help him opening up.  
But Castiel knew only sounds of the words he wanted to use, how could he tell him? He looked at his hands.  
“Talk to me.” Dean insisted.  
He so wanted to speak right now, he needed to tell him because he didn’t know the right signs for that. But how could he put words on rapes when he didn’t even know what he endured had a meaning? It was just hell to him.  
Then he remembered a word Mary used during his sessions, and he started moving his fingers to explain.  
A – B – U – Z – E  
Dean frowned.  
“Abused?” that’s what you mean?”  
Castiel nodded, and he rubbed his palms together, like he did with the dolls before.  
“Cas…” Dean said in a broken voice. “Look at me.”  
He lifted his chin.  
“I am wearing clothes like these right now.” He showed his clothes and pointed at the clothes on his bed.  
“Are you scared of me?”  
Castiel tilted his head again in confusion.  
“I am wearing clothes… like them… but I never hurt you, right?”  
Castiel quickly raised his hands to show him: N O.  
He was afraid Dean wanted to leave now, he didn’t want Dean to abandon him because he did something wrong. He couldn’t believe Dean would think about himself as a torturer. He was lost and panicked, not knowing who to associate with the clothes, so he stepped back.  
“Calm down, Cas. Look… I’m taking them back.” Dean said stepping toward the bed.  
But Castiel didn’t want Dean to think he associated his gift to his torturer, he couldn’t do that. It was a big misunderstanding. He leaned his hands on the clothes before Dean could take them back.  
“Cas?”  
Castiel pushed him away slowly and smiled. It was a shy and sad smile this time.  
“Don’t do it if you don’t want to, ok?”  
As an answer, Castiel pushed his hand harder on the pile of clothes. They would stay here. Dean stepped back lifting his hands in defeat.  
The spent the rest of the afternoon side by side, in silence.

That evening, Castiel looked at the Impala driving away. Dean was leaving St Gerry Hall, a page turned.  
He stared at the clothes, still on his bed, and then he looked at his own clothes. Garth tried to take them when he brought his meal, but Castiel stopped him, pushing him away like he did with Dean.  
Knowing Dean was gone in another place, Castiel took the book from under his pillow, and for the first time in months, he lied on his bed and curled up, looking at the dark feathers of the crow.  
That night, on his bed, the image of his past was here in the crow, and the image of his future was here too, in Dean’s gift.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

The next morning, Missouri had a moment of panic when she didn’t see him through the window. She opened the door, put the plate on the table and opened the bathroom’s door. She remembered the bed story and looked under it.  
“Castiel?” she whispered.  
“Castiel!” she called again raising her voice.  
He shivered, opened his eyes, scared, and met Missouri’s gaze.  
“What are you doing here? Come on, get out, your hot chocolate won’t be hot for long if you stay there.” She got up painfully. “God I’m too old for this!” She sighed.  
That’s when she saw the clothes on the bed and smiled, remembering Dean’s plastic bag. When she bent to observe them, Castiel put his hand and the book on them.  
“Relax I just wanna see them! May I?”  
Castiel tilted his head but finally took his hand off. She picked the shirt and smiled when she saw the angel wings, and then she picked the jeans, trying to evaluate the size at the same time.  
“I like!” she said smiling at him.  
She stepped away and came back to the table.  
When she left the room, Castiel stood up and stayed a long time observing the clothes on his bed, he finally took them and went to the bathroom.

 

When he took his pajamas off, he shivered. He wasn’t that cold, but he could feel something coming from inside him, making him shiver. He was standing here looking at the jeans, and he touched it from his fingertips… he really disliked that sensation, so he threw it across the room. He crouched down and curled up against the bathtub, surprised to feel desire between his legs.  
He never touched it again, except to wash because they forced him to, but he hated that part of his body and he ignored it most of the time since he arrived in St Gerry.  
He tilted his head and slid his hand in his boxers. He leaned his head against the bathtub when he felt his warm hand on his hard penis, and quickly stopped, taking his hand away, but the desire was still here, hurting him to death.  
He slid his hand again and tears silently fell from his eyes while he was enjoying his touch. He hated himself for enjoying this, but it was like his body needed it. But this time was different… he was doing it to himself, nobody forced him to. He remembered the first time he did it, before she surprised him and almost broke his wrist. It was the only time he felt this kind of pleasure, but it also was the beginning of hell and rapes.  
The more he thought about it, the quicker his hand rubbed his shaft, trying to release him. He came seconds later, arching his back in a soft scream. He lied on the floor and cried, curled up like a scared child, overwhelmed by his memories.  
His body just took back the control of his needs and his desire. He was not the attic boy anymore… he was just Castiel.

It took a few minutes for him to stand up. He washed off and got dressed. He felt empty, it was like someone else was moving for him. It took him forever to understand how to button the jeans, and when he was done, he couldn’t look at him in the mirror.  
He felt confided in those clothes, they were very tight. It was the first time he was wearing real clothes and he almost felt like a prisoner, it was uncomfortable.  
He finally looked up and saw his own reflection: his messy hair, his blue eyes… he lifted his hand and touched his shirt, still observing himself. Was it really him?  
He stayed barefoot, not trying to put the sneakers on. He stepped out of the bathroom to go back to his window, and froze when he saw his entire reflection in it. He extended his arm but he was too far from the window to touch it. If he’d step closer, he would lose the reflection of his full body.  
He looked down to look at his toes, then his jeans… it fitted him pretty well after all. He caressed the fabric and looked back at his reflection, touching his face to check it was really him standing in front of this window.  
For the first time in more than thirty years, Castiel understood he was a real human being, and he was alive, he was like everyone else. He just recovered.

 

  
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean remembered the day he saw him all dressed for the first time: when he arrived in St Gerry, everybody was smiling at him, he didn’t ask anything but it felt very awkward. And when he entered Castiel’s room and saw him with his jeans and shirt on, he couldn’t help but took him by his shoulders and looked at him from head to toe, smiling proudly. He was smiling so much he thought he would never be able to stop.  
“Dude! You’re handsome!” He said tapping his shoulder.  
Castiel needed a few days to move with ease in his clothes… and it took a few days for him to understand he needed to change to go to bed. Missouri and Garth used tons of patience to explain to him he needed to take the clothes off and wear his pajamas again. He didn’t want to leave them anymore.  
The first week Dean worked in Mc Arthur was great, but living alone in his apartment was harder. He was used to motel rooms, and he liked his place in St Gerry, but this was different.  
It was like for Castiel: he had to adapt to his new life style, and just like him, he had trouble recognizing himself in the mirror sometimes.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

After four other months, Castiel accepted to climb the final step.  
Missouri waited for him in the corridor, like she’s been doing for three weeks already. It was Dean’s idea: a familiar face waiting for him should give him the courage to step in the unknown world.  
Castiel was stepping toward her looking from Dean to Missouri all the way, but he always refused to pass the door.  
“Cas…” he called holding out his hand.  
Castiel accepted a lot of things, but taking a hand was impossible for him. Nobody insisted because it was the only times Castiel could be aggressive, that simple gesture seemed to be the “ON” button to all his frustrations and fears.  
Dean stepped next to him and held him by his shoulders.  
“We go out together, ok? At 3.” He offered, praying this time Castiel wouldn’t let the fear win.  
“1… 2… 3!”  
Missouri jumped from her chair, and Dean couldn’t even breathe or look at him. Time froze.  
Castiel was leaning against the corridor’s wall, his eyes closed tight, and his heart bouncing in his ears.  
“Cas… Cas, open your eyes! We’re here, don’t worry.”  
Dean’s voice brought him back and he opened his eyes. He realized nothing changed: he was still alive, Missouri was still here, except she was standing up, and Dean was still here too, right next to him.  
He made a huge step that day, and it took weeks for him to accept entering the day room. Mary cleared it for the occasion and no other patient could enter it that afternoon. Two months later, he stepped out of the corridor for the first time.  
Two years and five months after he arrived in St Gerry, Castiel was transferred from the East Quarter to the West Quarter. He accepted to eat in the day room for lunch, but he always refused to communicate with any other patient. He made no friends, reaching only for nurses or doctors.

Dr Roché kept visiting him, Castiel had a particular affection for him. He enjoyed the man’s company because he could feel he never considered him like a patient like others, and he always talked to him like he would talk to anyone else, not like he was an idiot. He was joking with him a lot, but Castiel never understood his sense of humor, tilting his head each time Dr Roché laughed alone from his own jokes.  
With a lot of work and a huge patience, Dr Roché made the impossible: Castiel finally took the control of his voice back. When the doctor asked him what he wanted to try saying first, he pointed at Dean. Dr Roché smiled at that.  
“As you wish, Cassy!” he said tapping his shoulder.  
Dr Roché had the same relationship with Castiel that he had with Jess, the mute and deaf boy talking by touching people. The friendship took over the job.

 

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

 

Dean entered the room and Castiel followed. He made him lose his winter clothes and looked at his jeans.  
“Cas… those jeans are so used, I bought you new ones why don’t you try them?”  
“t-h-i-s-o-n-e” Castiel spelled with his fingers.  
“I know you like this one, but look: there is a hole right here!” Dean replied pointing at his crotch. “… and much more” he added laughing. “Ok nevermind… we’ll have hot chocolate, what do you think? I’m freezing!”

That’s how Mary found them: sitting next to each other in the refectory, drinking their hot chocolate, Dean talking about his days in Mc Arthur and Castiel showing his progress proudly.  
Dean teased him and ruffled his hair while Castiel tried to avoid it. She laughed, leaning against the door. She doubted he could drive away with him from this hospital one day, talking was the ultimate step to his recovery. He was too broken to endure the cruel world outside St Gerry. Dean accepted that idea, they would go out and sit on the front stairs, it was enough for him.  
The lost Castiel standing at the window all day, knocking his head against it, was gone. Nobody meeting him now could imagine what he’d been through. He succeeded, he won this. They won this together.  
She came back from her deep thoughts when Dean burst out laughing. She noticed he laughed at something Castiel said… she heard his voice for the first time. He hit Dean’s shoulder because he was laughing at him.  
“Don’t… Dean...” He said painfully, with his husky voice. It was hesitant, broken and hurt, but it was his voice and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.  
She wiped the tears falling down her face and met Dean’s gaze. He wanted to know what it was to be happy, now he knew, even if it hurt first.

That’s how the crow finally flew away cawing one last time, and he disappeared far away to never come back.

 

 

"THE END"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never ask for reviews or anything like that  
> But if you liked this story, share it  
> Not for me, but for the victims  
> Tell them that you heard them  
> Tell them that I think of them each day of my life because I shared the same suffering  
> I’m proof that they must keep hope, there is always light at the end of the road

**Author's Note:**

> i'll post a new chapter each sunday


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